Second Reality To The Right
by Noda2
Summary: Sam finds herself in a closely related alternate universe where no one seems to know her.  S/J  NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

A/N #1-This story and its sequel (The Other Side of Reality) are complete and will be updated hopefully daily. There are 31 chapters plus an epilogue.

A/N #2-This story takes place sometime during season 7, 2004.

A/N #3-Special thanks to Linda B. for her observations and suggestions.

**Second Reality To The Right**

_Prologue_

Jack O'Neill stood in the cereal aisle, reaching up for a larger-sized box of Lucky Charms when he heard someone, a woman, calling his name.

"Colonel? Colonel O'Neill?" He reacted to his last name, not the military rank.

"Oh, my God! It really _is_ you, sir!" The woman surged forward, embracing him as if he were some long-lost love, then backed off, suddenly self-conscious at her familiarity.

"Sorry, sir, it's just after all this time. . . . I mean, I didn't think you were alive here. All my searches came up blank, and I thought I'd tried everything. . . . I can't tell you how happy I am to see you!" She looked as if she were about to embrace him again, and Jack took a step back, still staring at the woman who babbled effusively at him.

She was tall, slim, with short-cropped blonde hair and the biggest blue eyes he could remember seeing. His first impression of her was she was stunning. His second impression was she'd mistaken him for someone else.

"I guess I should have tried searching outside of Colorado Springs, but you seemed so rooted there and usually have such an aversion to Denver that I never thought. . ."

"Wait a second!" Jack said, waving his hands at her, trying to stop the onslaught of words. "Look, Lady, I'm not sure who you think I am, but I don't know you. I'm not in the military. The closest thing I've ever gotten to a uniform was Scout Master of my son's troop. So, if you'll excuse me. . . ." He reached up again, grabbed the box of cereal, and tossed it in his cart, intent on getting away from this nut case.

"Jack, wait!" _That_ got his attention. How the hell did she know his name? He stopped dead and slowly turned back to face her.

"Who _are_ you? How do you know my name?" She glanced around, appearing to be afraid she'd be over-heard. _Classic symptoms of paranoia,_ he thought to himself.

"My name is Samantha Carter," she said in a low voice, digging in her purse until she found a scrap of paper and a pen. She scribbled the name and a number on it, pressing it into his hand. "I work with you where I come from. We need to talk. Call me." With that she walked away, leaving Jack utterly speechless.

**1**

The interior of the bar was dark, especially after the glaring afternoon sun. It didn't take long for Jack to pick out Kawalsky's form in the gloom, especially when the man was waving at him.

"Hey! Jack! I'm glad you could join me! It isn't often you can break away from being Mr. Mom," he teased.

Jack returned his grin, signaling the bartender by pointing at the draft taps. "Charlie's at baseball practice. I figured the old man could sneak off for a little while, besides, it isn't often you're in my neck of the woods."

"Well I'm glad to see you taking some time for yourself. You're much too driven."

Jack accepted his beer and took a sip. "You should talk. You can't seem to pull yourself away from. . .what did you say it was? Deep space radar telemetry?"

Charlie chuckled. "Some pretty fascinating stuff. But you should know."

"My interest in astronomy is just a hobby. You know that. Gives me a break from keeping the kids blowing up the chemistry lab."

"Golf is a hobby. You have more than a passing interest in the stars. I'm surprised you didn't become an astronomer."

"And I'm surprised you did." They sat for a moment, savoring their drinks when Charlie asked conversationally,

"So, what have you been up to?"

"This and that. They've asked me to coach the baseball team, but I don't want to do that to Charlie. It was bad enough when I was his scout leader. I'll maybe think about it after he graduates."

"What grade is he now?"

"He'll be a junior this fall."

Kawalsky leaned against the bar, shaking his head. "There's no way. I swear to God that kid was just born."

"It does seem like yesterday," Jack agreed. "And a lifetime since Sara, well, since the accident."

"Jack, you can't keep blaming yourself for that. She chose to move your gun. You weren't even home."

"No, but I know how she hated them. Especially with Charlie in the house. It's just after the break-in, I thought we needed some protection. I always made sure it was locked up, but for some reason Sara was cleaning out the drawer that day. Charlie must have come across the gun. That's the only thing I can figure out, since he doesn't remember what happened. All the doctors said it was a blessing he suppressed it, but it also means I'll never know how she ended up shot.

"It was an accident, Jack. How many times did the cops have to tell you that?"

Jack looked down. "Yeah, that Shanahan guy went out of his way to reassure me the odds were astronomical." Jack fiddled with his drink coaster, then shifted his gaze to Kawalsky. "She still ended up dead, though."

Conversation stalled as neither man seemed to know what to say. After finishing off his beer and requesting another, Jack turned to his friend.

"I had something weird happen to me today."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I was in the grocery store and this bombshell blonde walks up like she knows me, but is calling me _Colonel_ O'Neill."

Kawalsky just raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue. "And then she calls me 'Jack.' How weird is that? I suppose it wouldn't be that hard to find out my name, but why would she? And act like she knows me?"

Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but Jack cut him off. "Then she tells me her name is Samantha Carter and goes all cloak and dagger on me, looking around like she's being watched. She wrote down her number on a piece of paper, shoved it in my hand, and told me to call her."

"And then what?"

"And then nothing. She walks off and I'm left standing amongst the Froot Loops with my mouth hanging open."

Charlie took a drink from his beer. "So you're going to call her, right?"

Jack looked at him, incredulous. "What? No! She's three fries short of a Happy Meal! Why would I call her?"

"Because you said she's a knockout and you haven't been out with a woman _in any capacity_ since your wife died."

"I didn't say she was a 'knockout.'"

"Not in so many words, but I know you, Jack. The fact you referred to her as a 'bombshell' means you noticed her as a woman, and you liked what you saw. Don't bother trying to lie to me."

Jack didn't know how to answer him. Okay, if he was honest with himself, then yeah, he did find her attractive, but just because she was pretty didn't mean she was normal.

"So you're telling me I should call her?"

"I'm telling you that you should hang on to that number. If some hot chick was inviting _me_ to call her, you can bet I'd follow up on it."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, over Marie's dead body."

"Okay, so you make a point," Kawalsky smiled in return. "All I'm saying is don't be too hasty.I gotta use the john. You got time for another?"

"Yeah, but I'm driving so I'm switching to soda."

Kawalsky laid a ten on the bar. "Get us another. And I want my change."

Jack watched his friend cross the bar. It was starting to fill up with happy hour customers, and he thought he'd better make the soda a quick one. He liked to be home before Charlie, even though his son was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. At seventeen, Charlie O'Neill exhibited the usual desire for independence, and Jack tried to give him his space. Still, when he was wound up after practice, Jack knew he liked to have someone to talk to about it, and he liked to be available for him. It wouldn't be much longer before Charlie was off to college and wouldn't need him as much for a sounding board. Jack intended to be there while he could.

Kawalsky retook his seat. "Why so pensive, Jack?"

"Just thinking," he replied, the oft-told joke making both men grin.

"About your Mystery Woman?"

"Actually, no."

"So what would be so bad about calling her? Worst thing that could happen is you'd have a good time."

"Or I lend credence to a psycho."

"Look, if she was a psycho she would have held you at knife point for your box of cereal."

"I think she's delusional, not a cereal killer," Jack said dryly.

"Oooo, that was bad, O'Neill." Kawalsky said, shaking his head in dismay.

"Sorry, but you left me no option."

Charlie drank nearly half his beer in one gulp, still looking at Jack in disbelief. "You know, you haven't changed since we were kids. And I don't mean that as a compliment."

"How old were we, anyway?"

Kawalsky's eyes glazed over for a moment as he tried to recall the years. "I think we were about Charlie's age.

Middle of high school as I recall. I kicked your ass in baseball."

"Yeah, but it was _your_ ass that got bruised when it came to hockey."

"True enough. So. Seriously, Jack. You should call her. I don't see her kicking your ass, so what's the problem?"

Jack concentrated on folding and unfolding the napkin that had replaced his coaster. "It's just. . . What would I say to her? It's been so long, I don't know that I know how to talk to a woman that isn't a colleague."

"Well, she's the one that seems to want to talk to you. You could let her do talking to start with. Anything after that should come pretty naturally."

Kawalsky's advice seemed sound enough, but Jack was still nervous. The last time he was on a date was close to twenty years ago. So this wasn't a date. He wasn't even sure it was a phone call, but it _had_ been years since he'd responded to a woman on a personal level. Ever since his wife died.

He knew women considered him attractive-he'd been the recipient of quite a few invitations-but he'd never felt comfortable accepting them. So how come the enigmatic blonde intrigued him so? What was it about her that kept him from tossing her number in the first trash bin he found?

Jack swallowed the last of his soda. "I gotta go. Good luck with your research."

Kawalsky fumbled for a second, and then seemed to recall what he was supposed to be doing for a living. "Right. Good luck with that blonde!" he called as Jack walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N-Thank you so much for the reviews! For some reason I wasn't receiving alerts so I wasn't able to respond personally. I apologize if I miss getting back to anyone as I truly appreciate the comments.

Disclaimer in part 1

**2**

Sam unlocked the door to her efficiency and did a quick scan of the room. Everything seemed to be in place from where she'd left it that morning, and she felt some of the tension leave her body. Conversely, she was still buzzing from the fluke of running into Jack O'Neill in the grocery store. She shook her head in disbelief as she thought of the odds he would be living in her neighborhood, after all her searching. It wasn't exactly _her_ neighborhood, she corrected herself, simply where she'd been staying most recently.

Initially, she'd taken up residence in Colorado Springs, reasoning if any of her team were living, there was a good chance they too were in the Springs. She'd come across more than one Jack O'Neill, but they'd turned out to be dead ends. One Daniel Jackson, but it turned out he was a she, for some reason sticking with the traditional male spelling. She hadn't expected to find any versions of Teal'c, but she had tried various combinations of Murray just on the off chance she would get a hit.

Setting her grocery bags on the kitchen table next to her laptop, Sam opened the lid and pressed a few keys. She'd written her own search program and directed it to scan through any Jonathan O'Neills in the metro Denver area. She used the time the computer was taking to put away her food, anything to keep her from staring at the screen. Sam knew from experience it could take several minutes to an hour or more to sort through the parameters she'd set, and she was too keyed up to watch scrolling data.

She was half-way through making coffee when she heard a chime, signaling the end of the search. Finishing with the coffee, she took a deep breath and sat before the computer. Beginning with eliminating O'Neills in the further suburbs, although she didn't completely rule them out. There was one in Wheat Ridge which, seemed to be the closest. Clicking on his name, she got an address and a phone number, which she wrote down. Sam wanted to call him, mostly because she wasn't entirely sure he'd keep her number. Plus the fact she missed him terribly. She'd been in this reality for nearly six months and she was lonely for her team. From the sense of isolation, to just missing her friends.

She'd spooked him, that much was evident, and she didn't want to exacerbate the situation by hounding him. If he didn't call her within a few days, she'd take the risk and try to contact him, but for now, she wanted him to think talking to her was on his terms. It was going to be hard enough to get him to believe what she had to tell him.

Jack sat on his sofa, a bottle of beer in one hand, a rumpled scrap of paper in his other. The name and numbers were legible, but were starting to blur from all the folding and refolding he'd done. Part of him wanted to pick up the phone and call her. His curiosity had definitely been piqued, and as Kawalsky pointed out, what did he have to loose? He was still staring at the note when suddenly it was snatched from his fingers.

"Hey!" he cried, twisting around to see his son dangling the paper, waving it back and forth.

"Whatcha got there, Dad?" He looked at what he'd just taken and raised his eye brows. "A phone number?"

"Give it back!"

"Perhaps the phone number of a _woman_?"

"Now why would you think that?" Jack asked, turning back around, pretending to be interested in the game currently displayed on his television.

"Well, for one, you don't use that tone unless you're serious, and for two you're acting as if I caught you master. . ."

Jack was on his feet in a flash, facing his son. "Charles Harold O'Neill if you finish that sentence you're never going near the truck again!"

Charlie was laughing. "Take it easy, Dad! I was just kidding! Jeeze! Did I strike a nerve or what?" Jack grabbed the paper out of Charlie's hand, stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans before his son could inspect it further.

"It's just a number, like you said."

"But I was right wasn't I? It's some chick's number, isn't it?"

Jack took a drink from his beer. Really, there was nothing to hide from Charlie. If he hadn't over-reacted, his son probably would have noticed his dad had a phone number from a "Sam Carter" on his way to raid the refrigerator, and that would have been that. Instead, he acted like a guilty teenager, as Charlie had so graphically started to point out.

It's just that he felt so foolish. 50 years old and he couldn't get up the nerve to call a girl.

Swallowing, Jack strove for nonchalance. "I wouldn't exactly call her a 'chick,'"

Charlie sat on the arm of the sofa. "So it _is_ a she! Way to go, Dad!" He held up his hand for a high five, but Jack ignored him. "What's she look like?"

"Is that all you care about?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty since only an hour before, the first thing he'd said about her to Kawalsky was she was a "blonde bombshell."

"Okay," Charlie sighed. "Did she seem nice?"

"More like a nut case."

"Well, that's a ringing endorsement. How'd you meet her?"

Taking a seat on the chair opposite the sofa, Jack started peeling the label of his beer bottle. "I guess it was more like she met me. Or thought she knew me, or something."

"You're not making any sense, which is nothing new," Charlie teased. "How do you know she knew you?"

First she called me _Colonel_ O'Neill, so I thought she'd just mistaken me for someone else, but as I was walking away, she called me 'Jack.'"

Charlie sat for a moment, looking like he was working through possible explanations, but Jack had been through them all himself. Finally he said, "You're right. It is weird, but Dad, lots of people know you, or about you. You're a teacher, for cryin' out loud! Even if people don't know you, they know _of_ you."

Jack's head bobbed in agreement. That could be it, he supposed, but the whole 'Colonel' thing threw him for a loop. After his brother had died in post-war Korea, the thought of the military had left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd been determined to get out of the "family business" by any means necessary.

"I guess that could be it, but I've had parents come up to me before and they don't act like it was a relief to see me." Jack expected a smart comment from his kid, but instead, he seemed serious for once.

"You could call her. What's it going to hurt to get more info?"

"Now you sound like your namesake."

"You saw Uncle Charlie today?"

"Yeah, we had a beer."

"So what did he say?"

"Pretty much what you've said," Jack told him, unwinding a large section of paper from his brown bottle. "They didn't glue this one down very well," he commented.

Charlie took the shreds of paper from his father, admonishing him. "Dad, stop that! You're making a mess!"

Jack chuckled mirthlessly. "That's what your mom used to say," he said quietly.

"Is that what this is all about? That you think you can't call a woman because of Mom?"

Jack knew his eyes were revealing more emotion than he intended, but there was no use denying it. "It's part of it, I suppose."

"Dad, Mom's been dead for eight years," he said, his voice catching with his own recollections. "I don't think she'd begrudge you the chance to meet someone new."

Jack swallowed, then met his son's gaze. "You're right. She wouldn't." Clearing his throat, Jack sat up straighter. "And since when have you been paying attention in English class?"

"Huh?"

"'Begrudge?' And using it correctly? I'm proud of you, me boy," he finished with an over-the-top Irish accent, ruffling is son's hair.

"Don't change the subject," Charlie said, smoothing down his hair only to run his fingers through it again to make it spikey. "I think you should call her," he reiterated. "After all, two Charlie's can't be wrong."

Jack smirked at that. He knew Kawalsky felt that way. "I should have named you 'Seamus' like you're mother wanted. She was all about embracing the Irish, you know."

"And I wouldn't have gotten teased about that at all," Charlie said dryly. Suddenly switching gears he added, "You weren't serious about the truck, were you? 'Cause I really need it. Allison and I are going to the movies."

"You live on a bus line," Jack pointed out.

"Would _you_ take a date on the bus? No, wait. Bad example. You _would_ take a girl on a bus. _If you'd ever call her!_"

"Okay! Alright! I'll call her!"

Charlie stood and ruffled his father's hair, affecting the same accent Jack had earlier. "I'm proud of ye lad. So, can I have the keys?"

Sam looked up at the bell perched above the door of the coffee shop Jack had suggested, and she smiled at the nostalgic sound. Looking around the small seating area, she noticed Jack occupied a table in the corner, in front of the windows. _A good tactical move_, she thought, arriving before her. He might claim not to be in the military, but his instincts were there nonetheless.

She smiled, and waved, nodding her head towards the counter. Sam could feel his gaze, and it made her unusually self-conscious. What did he see when he looked at her? She remembered his condescending attitude when she'd first met him, in her reality, and hoped there wouldn't be a repeat of her expounding on internal and external reproductive organs. Rubbing her forehead as she remembered her embarrassment,Sam missed the clerk asking for her order. Deciding on a large dark roast with no embellishments, she joined O'Neill at his table.

Jack stood as she approached, causing Sam to smile at his near-obsolete manners. "Thanks for meeting me," she said, pulling her bag off her shoulder, hanging it on the back of the chair.

Retaking his seat, Jack smiled, although Sam could see he was uncomfortable. After working seven years with the man, she was sure she'd seen most, if not all, of his reactions to unusual situations. "What can I say? You intrigued me."

Sam recognized the opening he was offering her, but took a minute to take a sip from her too-hot coffee, trying to decide where to begin. She'd been over this a hundred times in her thoughts, but she still hadn't come up with a place to start.

Setting her cup back down, she lifted her gaze to his and gave him a shy smile. "I would imagine what I'm going to tell you is considered confidential here as it is where I come from."

Jack leaned back in his chair. "And where might that be?"

"Well, recently, Colorado Springs," she joked, but it fell flat when his lips didn't even twitch towards a smile.

"Maybe you should tell me a little more about yourself," he suggested. "I know you're Sam Carter, but that's about it."

Sam blew out a breath. "Okay," she said feeling like she was being interviewed rather than sitting across from her commanding officer and friend. Technically, she guessed she wasn't, since this man didn't know her. "I'm a major in the Air Force, a doctor of theoretical astrophysics, considered an authority on. . .unique technologies, and a closet romance novel fan."

"Quite an impressive resume'," he said, taking a drink from his coffee. "Except for the confession about trashy novels."

"I didn't say they were trashy."

"Whatever. It really doesn't tell me anything about you, or why you think you know me."

"As I told you before, where I come from you and I work together."

"Now see? That's the second or third time you've said 'where I come from.' What the hell is that? I'm from Denver, Wheat Ridge to be specific, and except for vacations to Minnesota, this is where I'm from. I can assure you, we have not worked together."

"Oh, boy," Sam mumbled under her breath, rubbing her damp palms against the fabric of her jeans. Jack was skeptical at the best of times and this didn't even come close to an optimum moment. "Do I have your word this will remain between us?"

Jack crossed his arms. "I can't imagine why I would consider telling anyone else, so, yeah."

Sam took yet another deep breath. "In addition to being in the Air Force, I'm also a member of a top-secret team known as SG-1. You're our leader and Teal'c and Daniel Jackson round out the team. We all work together at a facility known as Stargate Command, located under NORAD in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex."

Jack was chuckling, shaking his head. "Nope, not ringing any bells. You've got a nice start to your novel, though."

"There's more," she said leaning in closer. "Stargate Command, or the SGC for short, is a base of operations for the Stargate. A device capable of creating wormholes that allow for nearly instantaneous travel between Earth and other planets."

"Okay, I take that back. You have a good start to your _sci-fi_ novel. A device that sends you to other planets? Come on, Samantha-it is Samantha, isn't it?-you've been watching too much of that schlocky T.V. show X-Treme something or other. The one they can't even spell right. You seem like a smart gal. I would have thought you could have been a little more convincing in your cover story. I'm still not sure what the whole pretense about knowing me is about, but I have to say I'm flattered that someone as hot as you would go to such lengths to get coffee out of me." He stood, gathering his things. "I hope I don't see you around."

"Jack wait! Look, I know what I'm saying probably sounds crazy, but please, hear me out!"

"Probably sounds crazy? Lady, you're certifiable. I've got to go. My lawn needs mowing or something."

Sam ran through what she knew about Jack, things that were likely to be the same in both realities. Information she shouldn't know. "You love cake, especially vanilla, but really, you aren't picky. You were best friends with Charlie Kawalsky, and maybe still are if he's alive here. You named your son after him." It was challenging to come up with personal information for him because most of what she knew came from his military career. "You spell your last name with two "ls", you used to live in Colorado Springs, your beer of choice is Guinness, but almost anything is fine so long as it's not Coors. I'm guessing you are or were married to Sara Roberts, who spells her name without the 'h.' You. . ."

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Jack cried, heedless of the stares they were getting. "You keep my wife out of this! I thought you were a little eccentric before, but this is borderline creepy! I knew I shouldn't have called you, but everyone said, 'what could it hurt?' Dredging up memories I didn't need is what it hurt!" He stopped to take a breath and Sam was going to try to interject something to calm him but he didn't give her the chance.

"I'm outta here. I wish I could say it's been a pleasure, Ms. Carter." With that Jack stormed out of the coffee shop, banging the door as he left.

Sam sat back in her chair, trying to ignore the looks she was still garnering. Now what was she going to do? She doubted Jack could be persuaded to speak to her again. Maybe in time he'd start to realize she hadn't been stalking him to get the personal information she knew.

Sam didn't know what her next move was going to be. Maybe she should just move on. Either he had no connection or knowledge about the Stargate, or he was a damn good actor. At any rate, he wasn't going to be of any help getting back to her universe. It was still her main goal, ever since she'd ended up in this reality.

One of the first things she'd done was research herself and her family. It turned out the whole Carter family had been in the car the day of the accident, and as a result, none of them had survived. While she was relieved she didn't have to worry about entropic cascade failure, Sam had no one to turn to to acclimate herself to this world. It was off just enough that she got confused and often made mistakes. Knowing things she shouldn't because they'd already happened in her reality.

It was one of the reasons she'd been so anxious to find her team mates. Surely if this reality was close to her own, her friends would be near by and involved in the Stargate program in some capacity.

Regrettably, that didn't seem to be the case. Any feelers she'd sent out came back negative. Either there was no Stargate Command in this reality or no one was willing to admit they knew anything about it.

So, maybe she didn't need Jack O'Neill. It was obvious he didn't want to know her this time around. She found it ironic, actually. She'd always thought she and Jack would be attracted to each other regardless of how they'd met, especially after she'd been with him in more than one reality. However, he'd just proven her wrong. There was no military barrier between them here and he wanted nothing to do with her.

Unfortunately, ever since she'd seen him in the store, she'd felt so much more reassured. Perhaps she would have felt the same had she met up with Daniel or Teal'c. She couldn't say for sure, but there was just something about Jack that had always given her the feeling even though the world was chaos around them, things would work out in the end. She missed his commanding presence and his "where there's a will there's an or" attitude. She so needed an "or" right now.

Sighing, Sam finished off her coffee, trying not to feel let down this meeting hadn't gone as planned. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't this sense of defeat. She might as well head back to her apartment, she decided, and start working on plan B.

Jack's angry strides got him to his truck sooner than he'd expected, and he opted to walk around the block hoping to walk off his excess energy. Obviously that. . .that. . .woman had been watching him for some time, and the chance "meeting" at the grocery had all been staged. He had to give her credit; she seemed genuinely surprised to see him there. But what was the point? What did she have to gain by claiming to know him? He wasn't anybody, just a high school chemistry teacher trying to raise his son on his own.

Jack had to admit, part of him was disappointed he'd been right about her being a whack job. As he sat watching her standing in line, he got a better look and his first impression of her beauty hadn't been wrong. She was exactly his type. Tall, leggy blondes had always been his weakness, and he found himself starting to hope maybe this coffee could lead to something more.

That was until she started in with her wild tales. A device that could transport people to other _planets_? Please. Suddenly he had a thought. This had to be some practical joke of Kawalsky's. Some "Candid Camera" moment he'd planned and any moment now his soon-to-be ex-friend would jump out and yell, "Gottcha!" He was about to pick up his cell and call Kawalsky, but remembered most times Jack called him, he was immediately sent to the voice mail. A rant to a recorder just wasn't the same.

He'd made it around the block and was back at his truck when he noticed Sam exiting the coffee house. She hadn't seen him, and he quickly ducked into his vehicle so he could observe her. A gust of wind came up, and as she pushed the hair back out of her face, Jack got another good look at her. Again he lamented his bad luck. Sometimes, life just sucked.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N—Sorry about the scene breaks in chapter 2. I tried to go back and fix them, but they didn't seem to want to "take." Hopefully this chapter will read easier.

3

Sam entered her apartment, slinging her bag onto the futon. The furnishings of the efficiency weren't hers, in fact nothing was, save the computer and the bag. She needed to travel light and the overstuffed purse was her only concession to material goods.

Laying down on the daybed, Sam covered her eyes with her arm. She had absolutely no idea what her next move should be. She hadn't realized it, but she _had_ been pinning all her hopes on O'Neill. That he would have a connection to the Stargate in some capacity and through him, she would have a way home. Once again she felt as though the rug had been pulled out from under her. He didn't know her, and apparently had no interest in getting better acquainted.

She'd been living off credit cards she'd applied for in the deceased Samantha Carter's name, having created a profile using her own social security number. When no red flags popped up, she assumed the former Sam had had the same number as hers. It was only a matter of keystrokes to take her place in this reality as the reincarnated Samantha Carter.

Of course the cards were going to have to be paid off sooner or later, and she either had to find a way back to her own universe, or get a job. Both prospects seemed equally daunting at the moment. She could calculate stellar drift, strip down and re-build a P-90, but had no employable skills. Maybe she could join the Air Force again and take the path she'd been detoured from when she'd joined the Stargate program. Somehow, that prospect paled now by comparison. It was hard to imagine she would find working at the Pentagon as glamourous as she once had.

Getting up, Sam moved to her refrigerator and discovered she was out of anything to make herself a meal. She might as well walk to the neighborhood market she liked, rather than the giant Safeway where she'd encountered Jack. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

On her way to the store, she passed the high school she'd noticed before, but hadn't paid any real attention to. There was a baseball game going on today, and she stopped for a moment, watching as the home team managed three runs off a hit that'd sailed over the back fence. She couldn't really see the face of the super-star as the batting helmet obscured his features. Sam started walking again and was even with home plate as the kid who'd winged it out of the park crossed the base, removing the helmet. This time she stopped in astonishment. The boy could have been Jack's clone from when Loki had replicated the Colonel. In fact, Sam thought perhaps that was the case, until she heard the crowd cheering "Charlie! Charlie!"

Sam's fingers gripped the chain-link fence as she tried to see the boy among the team mates swarming him, slapping him on the back and offering high fives. Making her way to the entrance of the ball field, she was still trying to get a clear look at him. This had to be Jack's son, she realized, and quickly scanned the crowd for Jack. For some reason he wasn't there to see his son's achievement.

She still hadn't gotten a good look at the boy until he made a show of bowing to the crowd continuing to chant his name. When he looked up, they were practically face-to-face. There was no way to miss this was Jack's son, the young man he would have become had he lived in her reality. Sam felt tears gathering in her eyes, her throat constricting with emotion. She must look ridiculous, she thought, feeling like she was going to burst into full blown tears at any moment. Turning away, she lost herself in the crowd, wiping her eyes and working to get herself under control. She couldn't say why the sight of him had caused such a reaction, other than she'd been missing "her" Jack and she knew what it would have meant to him to see Charlie alive and happy like this.

She was about to walk away, but she wanted one more look at the boy who appeared so much like the younger version of Jack she'd met at the SGC. Just as she turned to her left, he turned to his right, and once again they were staring at each other.

"Are you okay?" he asked, obviously realizing she'd been crying.

"Um, yeah," she said, clearing her throat and wishing she had a Kleenex. Sam forced a smile. "That was some hit."

He shrugged. "Not worth crying about," he teased. _Oh, he is_ so_ Jack's son_, she thought and that almost made her start crying again.

"It's just that you reminded me of someone," she said. "Someone who loved the game but never got a chance to play."

"Oh yeah? That's a shame."

"You have no idea. Well, I should be going. It was nice to meet you, Charlie." As she was reaching out her hand, she realized her mistake. She shouldn't know his name. Maybe if she was lucky, he wouldn't notice. Jack's looks weren't the only thing Charlie inherited, he possessed his father's quick intellect as well.

He took her hand, but looked at her askance. "Do I know you?"

"Um, no. I heard everyone calling your name, I just assumed. . . ."

"You're right. I'm Charlie. It's just weird when someone knows your name and you don't know them." Sam knew he was fishing for an introduction, and she couldn't decide if she should tell him or not. It's not like her name would mean anything to him, so she answered,

"Samantha Carter."

"Nice to meet you, Samantha Carter," he said, flashing his father's grin and making her heart ache all over again.

"Wait. . .Do you go by 'Sam'?"

"I do, why. . ."

"You had a date with my dad today, didn't you?"

"How did you know that?" she asked.

"Your name was written on the piece of paper with your number. I told him to call you."

Sam grinned at the thought that Charlie had been instrumental in Jack contacting her. "I wouldn't have called it a date, exactly."

Charlie laughed. "That's what he said, too. Man, what is it with old people? Um, sorry, I didn't mean you were old, I just meant. . ."

"It's okay, Charlie. Compared to you I am old."

"Did you like him?"

Sam smiled self-consciously and looked at the ground. "He seemed. . . ." _What, unreasonable? Intractable? As pig-headed as he always was when he didn't believe what he was hearing?_ "Nice," was the word she finally decided on.

"'Nice?' That's it?"

"Well, I just met him," _This version anyway,_ she thought. This was starting to get awkward. Perhaps if Jack hadn't ended their meeting the way he had, she would have tried to continue her conversation with Charlie, but as it was, Jack would view her talking to Charlie as trying to get to him by coming in thru the back door.

"Look, I have to get going. Again, it was nice to meet you." She extended her hand once more, shook his quickly, and turned before he could stop her.

XXXXXX

Jack was in his kitchen, lawn mower parts strewn across a newspaper covered table. He was working on greasing some bearings when he heard the front screen door slam.

"Hey, Dad," Charlie said, walking to the refrigerator and retrieving a bottle of Gatorade. He stood in front of the open

door, drinking from the bottle and it was all Jack could do not to let loose on his son.

"Cooling the house, are we?"

"What? Oh, sorry." Charlie closed the refrigerator door and leaned against the counter, taking another swig from the Gatorade.

"We have glasses, you know."

Charlie sighed and pulled a glass from the cupboard, filling it with blue liquid. "Happy now?"

"Hey, watch that smart mouth, Mister."

Charlie hoisted himself up onto the counter, and Jack suspected he'd done it just to push a few more buttons. "What's got you so pissy?" he asked.

Wiping grease off a wheel, Jack didn't look at his son. "It hasn't been one of my better days. This damn lawn mower for one. I should just get a new one." He looked up now and asked, "How was your game?"

Charlie finished off his drink and reached for the bottle. "We won, thanks to yours truly."

"Oh yeah? I'm sorry I missed it." Charlie didn't say anything, but Jack could see he too was sorry his father hadn't been there. It was more or less a practice game with a team out of their league, but he should have made more of an effort to get to it.

"Yeah, I hit a home run at the end. The bases were loaded."

"Way to go, Junior!" Jack wiped grease off his hand and slapped his son's upright palm.

"Which reminds me. I met your date after the game."

"My date?"

"Yeah, Samantha Carter. Man, she is one hot babe. For an older chick," he qualified. Jack felt his temper start to boil. It was one thing to stalk him, but now she was after his kid? He was putting a stop to this right this second. Pulling his cell from the pocket of his jeans, he hit "redial."

"What did she say to you? Did she threaten you?"

"What? No! Dad, all she said was. . ." Charlie was cut short when Jack started yelling into his phone.

"Who the hell do you think you are following my kid around?"

"_Jack_?"

"You know damn well who this is! You can't get to me so you're after my son?"

"_You've got it all wrong. I was walking past the ball field and. . ."_

"Save it, Sweetheart. I don't know what your game is, but I don't want any part of it. You stay away from me, and you stay the hell away from my son! If I see you around either of us, I'm getting a restraining order. You got that?"

"_Jack, I. . ." _Jack hit "end" on his phone, and angrily stuffed the device back into the pocket of his jeans.

"I miss real phones. You just don't get the same satisfaction hitting a button as you did slamming a receiver."

Charlie slid off the counter, looking at his father in disbelief. "What's got you so riled up? Really, Dad, she didn't do anything. Just said I reminded her of someone and got all misty."

Jack tried to calm himself. Charlie was fine. He was a smart kid, probably smarter than himself, he thought. However, he still had a touch of innocence about him and may not see the world as Jack knew it to be. Perhaps he'd grown too cynical over the years. Especially after Sara, but Charlie was all he had left of her, and that magnified his already overly protective nature.

Clearing his throat, Jack met Charlie's gaze with a sheepish expression. "I guess I did over-react a bit. It's just that. . ."

"I know, Dad. I feel the same way about you too, ya know." Jack was a little taken aback by his son's admission, unsure of what to say. He'd never been good with the touchy-feely stuff; he just hoped his actions spoke for themselves. "I think you might have misjudged her."

"And I think you don't know the whole story. Look, help me put this stupid machine back together and we'll order a pizza, okay?" Charlie looked as if he were going to object, then smiled indulgently.

"Sure, Dad. I just have to call Allison."

"Hey, if you already had plans. . . ."

"It's okay. You just go ahead on that lawn mower without me." Jack knew that smile. Charlie's phone call would last just long enough for him to miss out on assembling the mower. Watching his son head down the hall he felt his heart clench. He was a good kid, and he wondered how the hell that had happened with him as his father.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N—I'm anxious to get to chapter 5, so today is bonus day ;-)!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

4

Sam had her back to the counter as she prepared another coffee filter for brewing. She knew she had a customer before they asked for coffee, but when she heard his voice, she hesitated turning around to wait on him.

She didn't want a scene. He probably didn't either, but she was unsure of what to say to him. She'd given up thinking he was going to give her a chance to explain further, and had taken a job waitressing to help get her finances under control. Besides helping her make ends meet, it left her afternoons free to continue searching for a way back to where she belonged.

Taking a fortifying breath, Sam turned around, coffee pot in one hand, a heavy china cup in the other. "Of all the coffee joints in all the world, you walk into mine."

Jack looked up from his paper, clearly shocked to see her standing before him. So. This wasn't him trying to find a way to re-open their dialog. It was serendipity or just plain bad luck, depending on your point of view. Sam poured him a cup of coffee and slid the sugar container next to him, watching to see if he'd comment on the fact she knew how he took his coffee.

Jack looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. She'd always felt like she was in costume at the diner, and from the look on his face, he thought the same thing. The pink, close-fitting polyester dress and white apron was straight out of the fifties, but she matched the decor, which was trying to emulate the same decade.

He was speechless for a minute, then said, "I didn't know you were a waitress. You didn't mention that was part of exploring other planets."

Sam felt her face flushing. Her current appearance didn't lend any credibility to what she'd told him the last time they met. "I wasn't a waitress the last time I saw you, but a girl's gotta eat."

"Not here, I hope."

"You'd be surprised. The food's quite good."

"So I hear. Actually, it's why I'm here. I'm meeting a colleague and she recommended the place."

"Is that her?" Sam asked, nodding towards the door. Jack turned to see who'd entered as he gathered his paper and stood. "That's her." Looking around, he spotted an open booth in the back. "Is it okay if we move there? It's a little easier to talk."

"Suit yourself," Sam said, grabbing another cup. As the couple was settling in the booth, Sam poured coffee for the woman. "'Morning, Kerry," she said, smiling and placing the cup before her.

"Hey, Sam," she smiled in return. Kerry Johnson was a regular, and she liked the woman. She seemed passionate about her career and the kids she taught.

"Strange to see you on a weekend," Sam said, sliding menus in front of them. She suspected Kerry didn't need one, but Jack was still looking around the diner trying to acclimate himself.

"Yeah. Jack and I have a student in common who's having some difficulties, so we thought we'd put our heads together and see if there was some way we could maybe get him back on the right track."

Sam gave Jack a genuine smile. He'd always had such a big heart where kids were concerned. He seemed a bit embarrassed by the attention he was receiving, squirming in his seat.

"So what's good?" he inquired, glancing back and forth between the women. When Kerry didn't offer a suggestion, Sam stepped in.

"Huevos rancheros is the specialty."

Jack handed his menu back to her. "Huevos it is. Over medium."

Sam looked at Kerry. "The usual?" She nodded and Sam scribbled the order. "I'll be back with some cream."

Heading to the kitchen, she looked back at the couple in the booth. She couldn't see Jack's face, but Kerry was clearly excited, and there was a decidedly interested look about her eyes. She had crush on Jack, that much was obvious, and she idly wondered if it was reciprocated. Judging from his posture, Sam thought he seemed reserved, and was unaccountably reassured the feelings didn't seem to be mutual. Looking up at the clock, she noticed it was nine. The second rush of the morning was about to start and she didn't have any more time to devote to the study of Jack and Kerry.

Coming back around to check on their meal and to top off coffee, Sam tried not to eavesdrop, but allowed herself a glance at Jack. She couldn't deny she still missed him, even if he wanted nothing to do with her.

She'd resolved to not approach him again after the reaction he'd had nearly two months ago now. She now walked home by a different, if longer route, so she didn't pass Charlie's school, and didn't shop at the store where she'd first seen Jack. Truth be told, his threat of a restraining order had scared her. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because of her assumed identity. She really _was_ Samantha Carter-her DNA would prove that-but she was supposed to be dead. She didn't know how she would explain _that_ to the authorities.

Sam felt Jack's gaze on her as he held his cup up for a refill. She knew that look. He was assessing her and she wondered how she was faring. So far her presence hadn't seemed to bother him overly much; he hadn't told Kerry they should talk somewhere else. Maybe he'd decided to write her off as some kook with an over active imagination and move on.

Kerry held her hand over her cup when Sam offered. "No thanks. I have to go. Saturdays are when I can catch up on my errands. Thanks for meeting me Jack. Maybe between the two of us we can help Aaron." She hesitated a bit, giving Jack a chance to join her, but when he didn't stand, she smiled and bid them both farewell.

Sam was turning away when Jack touched her lightly on the arm. "Got a minute?"

Surprised, Sam set the coffee pot down on the table and slid into the booth opposite him. "Yeah, I can take a break."

She nodded at Jill, the other waitress, who seemed to understand she was off the floor. Sam waited for Jack to speak, but he didn't seem to know what to say. "So, what's up?" she prompted.

Playing with the salt shaker, Jack looked at her from under his brows. "I, uh, wanted to apologize for the other day."

"The other day?"

"The whole restraining order thing," he clarified. "I kind of jumped to conclusions."

"Well, it was a little longer than the other day," she said, leaning back into the cracked, red vinyl of the booth. "Look, Jack, I don't want you, or Charlie for that matter, to think I'm stalking you or something. You obviously think I'm crazy and won't listen to what I have to tell you with an open mind, so, I'm over it," she said with a shrug. "I'm just

plain ol' Samantha Carter, retro diner waitress extraordinaire."

She realized that admission stung. She wasn't Major Samantha Carter any more. Savior of the planet, re-writer of the law of physics. She couldn't claim an affiliation to the Air Force, or prove she had a doctorate in astrophysics. She hadn't done that here. She had nothing to show she'd been educated. The Welcome Back Diner didn't care if she could build a naquadah generator. All her employers cared about was their customers getting hot food and their coffee cups didn't run dry. That is what Samantha Carter of this reality was capable of doing. So, that's what she did.

It didn't mean she had to like it. Sam didn't want to admit it, but she knew she was battling depression. She'd go back to her tiny apartment after her shift, continuing to work on a way to reverse what had happened to her. The reality of her situation was she was merely existing, and the longer she was here, the less likely she was to find a solution, and that thought was the most depressing of all.

"Well, I'm still sorry," Jack said, breaking into her musings.

"We didn't meet under ideal circumstances," she agreed. "I was so excited to see someone from my past. . . ." Sam realized she wasn't doing herself any favors by heading down that road again. "Someone I thought I knew," she amended, "that I got carried away."

"And I over reacted," he said.

Sam stood, her break over. "It was nice to meet you, Jack O'Neill," she said offering her hand to him. He accepted it and answered,

"Likewise." He took a breath then said, "Maybe we could try again?"

She gave him a big smile. "I'd like that," she said, writing her number down on her order pad. She tore off the sheet and handed it to him. "Call me."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N—grab a cup or coffee or your beverage of choice and settle in; this one's a long one.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

5

Jack ran a comb through his greying hair, then looked in the mirror, straightening his polo shirt. He was nervous. Last time he met Sam Carter he told himself it wasn't a date. This time he wasn't so sure. He'd called her, suggested dinner and she accepted. It had all the earmarks of a date to him. Charlie as well, who hadn't stopped teasing him from the time he learned his father had called the "Stalker Chick."

He'd tried to tell his son that seeing her at her job shed some new light, and he felt he'd over-reacted to Sam talking to Charlie after his game. Charlie tried to keep his "I told you sos" to a minimum, but he'd still managed to bring it up more than necessary.

Stepping into the living room, Jack noticed Charlie sprawled on the couch, pretending to read his history text book. He knew his son had elected to do his homework at his own house rather than Allison's so he could send his father off on his "date."

"Whoa! Looking good, Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, sitting up.

"It's the same thing I wear when I go to school," he said, picking up his truck keys from the table in the hall.

Charlie shrugged. "You look better than when you go to work. So, where are you kids having dinner?"

"Edwardo's. I figured casual Italian was a good second meeting food."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "Just don't order spaghetti. Bad first actual DATE food."

"And you speak from all your vast years of dating?"

"Lets face it, Dad. Who's had more experience in the last few years, me or you?"

Jack smiled, realizing his son was right. "Yes, but historically who's gone on more. . . ."

"Dates," Charlie supplied. "Okay, I give, but just remember, messy food shakes your self-confidence, and you're on shakey enough ground there." Jack wanted to argue with Charlie, but unfortunately he was right. His stomach was in more knots than he'd expected for meeting a woman he'd declared a loon.

The trouble was, when he'd seen her at the diner, she seemed completely rational, and turned out to be not a bad waitress. The real trouble was, when he'd seen her smile, really genuinely smile, he felt something twist in his chest he thought was long dead. Buried with his wife.

"You're going to be late," Charlie reminded him, and as Jack headed out the door, he heard, "Don't forget about the spaghetti!"

Checking his watch, Jack saw he had plenty of time, providing there were no traffic issues. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He really _was_ nervous and he had the sweaty palms to prove it.

He decided what was really bothering him was that she'd start talking about traveling to other planets again, and he'd get angry for being sucked back in by a pretty face. Okay, so she had more than just a pretty face. He couldn't help but notice, he was a guy, after all. She had a nice rack, and he'd taken note. Fortunately, she also had incredibly expressive eyes and it would help him keep focused up, rather than on her chest.

Jack pulled up to a stoplight, realizing he'd day-dreamed practically the entire drive as Edwardo's was just up ahead on the right. Turning into the parking lot, he saw it was practically full, and he was glad he'd made a reservation for seven p.m. Not too early, but not so late as to seem more intimate.

It was dark in the restaurant, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the low light. Checking in with the hostess, he realized Sam had already arrived, sitting at the bar. She was dressed casually, in a chino skirt and colorful blouse, perhaps to aid him in spotting her.

"You got here early," he said, taking a seat next to her.

"Not by much. I just arrived." The bartender placed a drink before her and Sam smiled her thanks as she pushed a bill towards him. "Would you like something?"

"I should probably stick to soda," he said, wishing he had some form of alcohol to fortify himself. She nodded and took a sip from her own drink.

"So. . . ." he said, not sure where to start.

"So," she replied, appearing equally unsettled.

Jack tried to think of something, anything to get a conversation started. It was lame, but he started with her profession. "Waitressing? I thought the last time we met you were telling me you were an astrophysicist."

Sam smiled self-consciously. "Well, I am, but in case you haven't checked the classifieds lately, there's not too many listings for astrophysicists, especially ones that work in the realm of theory."

"So, that means you make stuff up." Her smile widened at his jab. He was surprised by that. He was baiting her, and instead of growing defensive, she seemed to find some humor in it.

"I suppose in the simplest of terms, yeah." She was quiet for a moment, then added, "I needed a job, and when I saw the sign in the diner, I applied," she shrugged. "Is it what I'm trained for? No, but it pays the bills and right now that's what I need."

"Fair enough," he said, taking a sip from his Coke. "You were good, by the way."

"Good?"

"At the waitressing thing. I didn't run out of coffee. That's huge."

Sam laughed. "Well, thanks. It's not rocket science, you know." It was Jack's turn to smile, and he found himself relaxing just a bit.

"So I don't know what you do. Are you a teacher too?" Before he could ask what made her come to that conclusion, she added, "I know Kerry teaches English."

"Ah. I am, actually. I teach high school chemistry."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Really? The Jack I. . .I mean you don't look like a science geek." Jack's eyes narrowed a fraction. He could tell she'd been about to say 'the Jack she knew,' but stopped herself. Obviously she was trying not to alienate him in their first five minutes of dialog. The distressing part was, although she didn't actually say the words, she obviously still thought of him as some kind of weird carbon copy of someone she knew.

Jack allowed his gaze to purposely rake her figure. "I wouldn't peg you for a science geek, either." Sam's blush started below her collar, rising to her cheeks. The confident air she'd assumed faltered under his scrutiny, and he found he enjoyed her reaction. He wasn't seriously flirting with her. Yet.

Clearing her throat, Sam turned to him with renewed confidence. "Why chemistry?"

"I like to blow things up."

Sam laughed. "Huh. Me too." Jack found the thought of her with explosives incredibly hot, and it was his turn to feel his face flush. Fortunately, the hostess chose that moment to inform him their table was ready.

"Shall we?"

Sam nodded, picking up her cocktail and following the woman towards a booth in the back. Jack rested his hand lightly on Sam's back, and when she didn't object, he allowed his touch to linger. The intimate gesture was more than he'd allowed himself with most women, but there was something about Sam that made the contact feel natural.

Turning to take her seat, she looked up at him and smiled, as if she too had felt the connection on more than one level. That smile was going to be his undoing, he realized, and found himself looking forward to it.

Perusing the menu, Jack picked lasagna, figuring it fell within Charlie's recommendation of acceptable first date food, as did Sam's choice of chicken cacciatore.

"It must be nice to be on the other side of the order pad," he said, finishing off his Coke.

"Actually, it makes me terribly critical," she confessed. "I try not to be, but sometimes bad service makes me want to get up and do it myself."

"Well, then lets hope we don't get bad service," he grinned at her. They both fell silent knowing what they weren't talking about was hanging between them. Jack could sense she wasn't going to bring up the subject of their last meeting, so he dove in.

"Okay, obviously we have some issues to straighten out. Why don't you go first."

"I don't have any issues with you."

Jack sighed. "All right, then. I guess I have issues with you. Like all the craziness you were spouting when we met for coffee."

"I admit, I went about that all wrong," she said. "I was just so excited to see you, to see anyone from my. . .past, I hadn't thought it through."

"And you have now?"

"Some. What I have to tell you is just as unbelievable, so I'm not holding out much hope of you accepting it."

"See? You sound all rational and yet hint at all this stuff that's the realm of science fiction. You really seem to believe it, that's the scary part."

Sam looked down at the table and smiled. "I do believe it, because I've lived it."

Jack sat back as the waiter set a glass of water before each of them, temporarily suspending their discussion. When Sam spoke again, she seemed to be approaching the subject from a different angle.

"Do you know what the multiverse or parallel universe theory is?"

It wasn't what he was expecting, but he answered as best he could. "Um, from what I understand it's several realities happening at the same time only they very slightly depending on decisions we make. Fork in the road kind of stuff."

"That's more or less how you described it in my universe. You even had proof and were skeptical, so I know this is going to be a tough sell."

Jack was tired of the hints and innuendos. "Look, just spit it out, okay? All the contrived drama is getting old."

"I tried to be straight with you before and you didn't want to hear it. Are you going to listen this time?"

Jack wasn't sure what to say. He supposed he had shut her down the last time and it was against his nature to not interject, but he wanted to know what was going on. "I'll try," was all he could offer.

"Think of the Universe as a multi-lane highway and somehow I've switched lanes. What I'm trying to say, is I'm not from this reality, but one very similar. In the one I've come from, I'm in the Air Force, on a team called SG-1, and the Jack I know is my commanding officer." Sam sat back, assessing his acceptance or dismissal. He wasn't sure how he felt about she'd told him. The whole highway thing made some kind of sense, but you couldn't just decide you wanted to be in another reality and make it happen. That was the part that was the most difficult to believe.

"I have a theory on how this happened, but if I'm right, I don't see a way for me to get back." He must have looked impatient again as she continued.

"The first experience we had with parallel universes was when we 'gated to P3R-233."

At his confusion, she added, "'Gated' means we used the Stargate to get to the planet whose designation was P3R-233. There was a device on that planet Daniel-that would be Daniel Jackson-touched. We thought he was missing, and didn't realize it at the time, but he'd been transported to another reality through what we now call the quantum mirror."

She took a breath and continued. "He'd had some kind of controller in his hand at the time he'd touched the mirror, so he was able to trace his way back, using the quantum mirror of that reality to return to 'our' universe"

Jack tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but it was all starting to run together in his mind. Part of the trouble was he couldn't stop staring at her. Sam's animated features, and the light shining in her eyes was mesmerizing. He couldn't take his gaze from her mouth, and it wasn't until her lips were pressed into a firm line he realized she'd stopped talking.

"How much of that did you get?" she smirked.

"Well, I. . ."

"Don't bother lying, sir." She looked down, then back up once more. "Um, sorry. Jack. "I know you're Jack and not my CO It's just that when you give me that befuddled look, you seem so much like Colonel O'Neill, it just came out."

"Confuse him a lot, did you?"

"Oh, yeah," she smiled fondly. "Although I suspect he understood more than he let on. I'm not sure why he tries to pretend he's not as intelligent as he is. Maybe you could tell me."

"I'm sure I haven't a clue," he answered, trying to deflect her interest before she could really start analyzing him. "You said the 'first time.' You've had other encounters?"

She nodded. "The next was a version of myself, with Charlie Kawalsky. They were fleeing. . .an enemy and used the mirror as a last resort to escape."

"That had to be weird," he said, noticing he sounded as if he was buying her story.

"You have no idea." She took a sip of water and added, "You know how you have this image of yourself in your head, how you think you present yourself to the world? When you come face-to-face with yourself, every insecurity you've ever had is on display. I never realized how single minded I can be, how controlling I am, until Samantha held a mirror up to my behavior. No pun intended." He smiled briefly at that, but didn't let her distract him from his questions.

"And another version of Kawalsky came with you-her? How did he react to that?"

"In my reality, Kawalsky had been. . .killed, so there weren't two of them. For him it was a blessing because there weren't two of them occupying the same space/time."

"That wasn't the case for you though," he pointed out. "So what happens if there's two of you?"

"Entropic cascade failure. It didn't happen immediately, but as time wore on, Samantha experienced horrific tremors, because both of us couldn't be in the same place at the same time for more than a few hours."

"Has that happened to you?" Jack wasn't sure why he was so concerned for her well-being. She was just some nut job with a very active imagination.

"Here, you mean? No. The Samantha Carter of this reality died with her family in a car crash when I, I mean she was fourteen. So that's why I'm 'safe' here. Safe being a relative term." Her smile was ironic, but he could feel himself being pulled into her story, even if it wasn't true.

"How do you know all this stuff about her? I mean if you never met?"

Sam helped herself to a breadstick, munching thoughtfully. "One of the first things I did was look her up on the Internet, because I needed to know if I was going to have trouble with ECF. When I figured out she must be. . .not alive in this reality, I assumed her identity. Her social security number was the same as mine, so in essence, I just took her place."

"What about if there's someone who knew Samantha died in that car crash, and now here you are?"

"So far, it hasn't come up, and records get screwed up all the time," she said. "On the surface, I can pass it off as a computer glitch. If someone digs deeper, they might find conflicting data, which would be harder to explain."

Jack watched her toy with her napkin, before she looked up and her gaze met his. "Which is why I did everything I could to stay away from you and Charlie. I didn't want to cause trouble, but also, I really didn't want you to go through with your threat of a restraining order."

Jack shifted in his seat. More than once he'd regretted his rash behavior. "I'm sorry about that," he said quietly, avoiding looking at her. "It's just that Charlie's kind of a sensitive subject with me. Ever since his mother died, he's all I have, so I guess I can be a little over-protective when it comes to him." He chanced a glance at her, expecting to see Sam's expression verifying his obsession. Instead, she looked like she might cry. As if she completely understood his need to keep his son safe.

Sam's next words came out in a hoarse whisper. "In my world, Charlie is dead. He shot himself with the colonel's gun." She swallowed then added, "It was an accident, but the Colonel will never stop blaming himself." Jack understood how this supposed counterpart must feel. Didn't he live with the guilt and pain of Sara's death every day? How much worse would it be if it had been Charlie?

"How. . . .?"

Her voice was still low, and she couldn't look at him. "Apparently he found the colonel's gun and was playing with it when it accidentally discharged. Charlie didn't even make it to the hospital."

Jack remembered the horror of finding Sara in a pool of blood, and how it could have been so much worse had he come upon his son the same way. "Sara," he swallowed, then tried again. "Sara was shot with my gun. The cops said it was an accident. A total one-in-a-million fluke."

Jack could see she wasn't going to press for details, but felt she should know. "Sara hated that the gun was in the house. Especially with Charlie. The only thing the police could figure out, was she'd moved the gun for some reason. Most likely Charlie had found it and was playing with it when it went off. I came home from school and found her. She was already dead." He could barely get last words out.

Sam reached across the table and took his hand, giving it a hard squeeze. "Oh, Jack. I'm _so_ sorry." Her eyes were filling with tears, and in that moment he didn't care if she was crazy, living in some fantasy world. She was offering him genuine comfort and compassion, and he was grateful. They sat that way for endless moments until the waiter arrived with their food, his cheery disposition helping dispel the gloom that had settled over their table.

Sam brought her hand back, and cut into her chicken. Watching her take a bite, Jack again found himself fascinated by this woman. Why the hell couldn't she be normal?

"This is wonderful," she pronounced, "This was a great suggestion. The restaurant, I mean."

"Actually, this is the first time I've been here," he confessed, tasting his lasagna. "I'm pretty sure I'll be back." He was careful not to say "we" since he wasn't sure if this meeting was a one shot or not. He also wasn't sure what to say next, and an uncomfortable silence hung over their table.

"I thought we were through with alternate universes when General Hammond ordered the destruction of the quantum mirror in our reality. Apparently it wasn't the only way to 'switch lanes,'" she said.

"You said you had a theory on how that happened?" He was actually getting into her story, he realized, and wanted to hear how she thought she ended up here.

Sam laid her knife and fork to the side of her plate and took a drink from her water. "We'd 'gated to P4X-399 to investigate some ruins Daniel was sure would help him decipher the language of the Ancients."

_Ancient whats?_ He wondered, but before he had a chance to ask, she continued.

"When we arrived on the planet, there was an extremely violent electrical storm, and the Colonel ordered us back through the 'gate, despite Daniel's protestations. He always argues with the Colonel," she said with a grin. "I don't think they know of any other way to communicate."

"I don't know much about the military, but I would think arguing with your commanding officer would be frowned on."

"Daniel's a civilian," she clarified. "He's a brilliant archaeologist and was actually the one who figured out it was a series of 'glyphs in a specific order that allowed the Stargate to connect to another world."

When she said it, her explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, and she spoke with such conviction, Jack found himself starting to wonder if it might not be possible. She'd been right when she'd called him a skeptic, and for him to even consider what she was saying was monumental. Of course It didn't hurt that she was a knockout. The old saying he'd listen to her reciting the phonebook came to mind and he imagined he would do just about anything to keep her speaking.

"Okay, let's say I buy all this. For the moment. How does a storm on this other planet get you here?"

Sam picked up her fork, taking another bite. "I think the Stargate was hit by lightning at the _exact_ second I stepped through, causing the wormhole to jump from P4X-399 to some unknown planet. One that was probably relatively close, at least in the cosmic sense."

"What makes you think that?"

"We know that a large discharge of energy has altered the path of the wormhole before, so it seems the most logical answer."

_Logical to you, perhaps_, Jack thought to himself. To him it still sounded like someone had read too much H.G. Wells.

Sam still hadn't gotten to the part about how she'd supposedly ended up in "his" universe, so he nodded at her to go on.

"I had no clue where I'd ended up. All I knew was there was a Stargate, and the rest of my team was missing."

"What do you suppose happened to them?" he asked. Sam was clearly upset thinking about the possible answer to that question, but she swallowed down her emotion.

"I'm hoping they made it back to the SGC."

"But you don't know for sure."

"No," she sighed, setting down her cutlery again and pushing her plate away. "I can't let myself think otherwise. From what evidence I've been able to gather, they're not here or you'd be going through cascade tremors, even if 'my' Jack was somehow on another planet."

Sam had referred to this other Jack as "hers" more than once, and it set him to wondering if they were a couple, wherever she came from. It was obvious she missed him and had great affection for this man, and was attaching that affection onto him.

"Okay, so you're on an unknown planet, but with this Stargate thing that's supposed to send you back where you came from, right?" She nodded. "So why didn't you just go home?"

"Initially I was looking for the rest of my team. No one gets left behind," she stated resolutely.

"And yet, here you are, left behind."

"The only way they would have gone back without me was if they were convinced I wasn't on the planet. The colonel would stop at nothing to bring me back. Any of us back," she added. Still, the slip seemed very telling. He could see she had a thing for this other O'Neill because of the way she responded to himself. Jack was starting to get the feeling it wasn't one-sided.

"So are you and this other Jack involved?" he blurted.

"He's my commanding officer," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. "There's rules against fraternization."

"That didn't answer my question," he said, taking another bite of his meal, wondering why it mattered to him if they were seeing each other.

"No. We're not. We're. . .friends." She forced the last word as if she found it distasteful.

"Samantha, I'll be the first to admit I'm not the greatest judge of character, but I'm pretty sure I know when someone is lying to me. You whole-heartedly believe all this Stargate stuff," he said, waving his hand around. "You weren't telling the truth when you said there was nothing between you and this Jack you seem to think I'm a doppelganger for."

This time it was Sam who squirmed under his scrutiny. She wouldn't meet his gaze, but quietly stated, "I'll admit there is an. . .attraction there." She looked up, staring into his eyes. "But nothing has ever happened!"

"I don't suppose it has," he said, finishing off the last of his dinner. "You and he being respectable officers and all." He wasn't mocking her, exactly, but he was having a hard time believing the embrace she'd given him at the grocery store was born merely from relief at finding a long-lost friend, and he told her so. Sam started protesting again, but he stopped her.

"Sam, I don't care if the two of you had crazy monkey sex on his desk, I'm not in your military, and I'm not your Colonel O'Neill. I don't have an opinion on your relationship." Unfortunately, he wasn't being entirely honest with himself or her. He still wasn't buying what she was selling, and yet, he found himself jealous of this man who had her undying devotion. During their short conversation, he wondered what it would be like to have Samantha look at him with the same light in her eyes she had when she talked about that other Jack. If he existed, he was one lucky bastard.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "I can't believe you just said that!"

He couldn't decide if she was seriously shocked or not. Her smile was quirked at the corners of her mouth, and Jack suspected she was more surprised he was being so casual with her rather than truly offended.

He shrugged. "Maybe your Jack would be just as gauche if your relationship wasn't bounded by so much protocol."

She appeared to be thinking about that, then her smile grew.

"Probably," she agreed.

"So," he said, pushing his empty plate to the edge of the table, "we're still not up to how you got here."

Sam considered for a moment, looking like she was trying to decide where to pick up her story. "As I said, I was looking for the rest of my team. I had gone through the 'gate first, so I expected them to have followed me. When that didn't happen, I began searching the area around the Stargate. It wouldn't be the first occurrence of a time dilation effect with a jumped wormhole."

Jack could practically feel his eyes glazing over. "In English, please?"

"Physical laws in a diverted wormhole don't always react the same as in normal space/time. In theory, even though they would have entered the 'gate after I did, they could have arrived on the new planet before me." Jack found himself nodding. Was this really any crazier than the other stuff she'd been spouting?

"So, I started to search for them. I was taking readings, trying to get a fix on them, or anything living for that matter, when I discovered some unusual energy fluctuations."

"What, did you bring a tricorder with you or something?" he joked, but she didn't even crack a smile.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I suppose I did base my design somewhat on the Star Trek prop, but only because it performed the functions I wanted my analyzer to accomplish. Searching for life signs, energy signatures, that sort of thing."

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that. What _did_ you say? Ask her why she didn't just ask Scotty to beam her up? Fortunately, he was spared a comment when she spoke again.

"I was getting some readings of fluctuating energy spikes. I mean some seriously high off-the-scale kind of readings. For some reason the pattern looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. In hindsight, I realize it was the same pattern emitted from the quantum mirror, but at the time I was more curious about the anamorphic shape of the energy field."

"Who wouldn't be," he quipped. She wasn't even slowed down by his sarcasm.

"I noticed there were tendrils of energy, somewhat like a solar flare, and to be safe, I started to back away from the anomaly. I don't know if a tendril had moved behind me, or I was hit head-on by a sudden flash, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the meadow where I had encountered the energy field. There was no evidence that it was, or ever had been there. There wasn't even any static electricity in the air. It was like I'd imagined the whole thing."

"Yes. I'm sensing a common theme here," Jack said, motioning the waiter to their table. Again Sam was either oblivious or chose to ignore his mocking remark.

"I still had all the equipment that was either on my body or in my hand, but I was tingling all over as if I'd had an electrical shock."

The waiter's appearance interrupted Sam's soliloquy, and she looked a bit annoyed, as if she didn't get the whole tale out, she'd loose her train of thought.

"Would you like a box for that, ma'am?" he politely asked. Sam looked at her discarded meal as if she'd forgotten it was there.

"Um, yes, please."

The waiter offered dessert, and Jack was going to pass, but then the server mentioned a raspberry ganache torte. Looking at Sam, he questioned her with quirked eyebrows. She smiled a grin that was rapidly becoming his favorite and said, "I suppose I could manage a bite or two."

Jack gave her a genuine smile. Gorgeous blonde _and_ cake. Did it get any better? Before he could change the subject, since this one was getting a bit out of control, Sam relaunched into her discourse.

"I tried the radio, and continued to search, but there was just no evidence any of my team had come through the Stargate on that planet. I left a note on the DHD in case I had somehow missed them, and dialed Earth."

"DHD?"

"It stands for Dial Home Device. It's the technology that allows us to establish wormholes from one 'gate to another. The Stargates are a vast network of portals all across the galaxy," she said matter-of-factly, as if she were discussing the Interstate highway system.

"I didn't want to leave the planet," she said, "but I'd exhausted all my options. I decided it was better to head back to Earth, and either confirm my team was home or re-group and re-establish my search."

Jack had to admit he was starting to wonder how she was going to resolve this fantasy. The waiter had unobtrusively slid a huge slice of cake between them, dispensing two forks. Jack took a bite, waiting to hear what Sam had found on the other side of her Stargate.

"It's always a little difficult to see when you first exit the 'gate, but it was unusually dark this time. I remember calling out, joking someone needed to turn the lights on, and all I heard were my words echoing around a large room. Slowly, it began to sink in it wasn't completely dark, that there was some emergency lighting. The room I was in wasn't the 'gate room. I wasn't sure where I was, and after the wormhole had jumped to a different planet the last time, I couldn't even be sure I was on Earth."

Sam broke her dialog and took a forkful of cake. Watching as the rich chocolate melted on her tongue, Jack noted a blissful expression stealing over her features. "Oh, my God! This is _amazing._" She promptly took another bite, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Jack couldn't take his eyes from her lips and wished he was able to help her clean the bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth with his own lips and tongue. He cleared his throat,

"Definitely the best part of the meal," he agreed.

"One more bite, then I have to stop," she said, but he noticed it wasn't a small one. She lay down her fork, pushing it away from herself as if the distance to the utensil would give her strength. He, on the other hand, was having no moral dilemma eating more of the cake.

Sam dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, wiping Jack's hoped-for morsel from her lips. "Where was I?"

"Something about not sure if you were on Earth." He was proud of himself that he could prove he'd actually been listening to her.

"Right. To make a long story shorter, after some reconnaissance I decided I was at Area 51, rather than Area 52."

"I'm not following."

"Area 52 is the designation given to the SGC. I'm sure I don't have to explain Area 51."

"So how did you end up in Nevada?" Jack asked, wondering if she'd left out part of her story.

"That's what I wanted to know. I'd clearly come from the Stargate, but it shouldn't have been in the Groom Lake facility. I didn't want to believe I was in an alternate reality, but the evidence was mounting up. My team missing, the Stargate not where it was supposed to be, and most telling, there was a DHD." At Jack's confusion, she added, "We don't have one in my reality. So, alternate universe was the only logical conclusion I could come up with."

"Logical. . . ." Jack said. _Certainly not the term I would use_, he thought. Sam looked him straight in the eyes, trying to assess his denial or acceptance.

"You still don't believe me, do you?"

Jack cleaned up the cake plate until there was only smears of chocolate left. He wasn't sure how to say he didn't buy her story without putting her off again. Throughout dinner, he'd come to the conclusion he liked Samantha Carter. Physical attributes aside, she'd proven capable of an in-depth conversation without the usual inane topics people usually suffered on first dates.

"Not really, no." He'd probably blown any chance of seeing her again, but he couldn't pretend he took her story at face value. Surprisingly, a smile spread across her face.

"I would have been disappointed if you'd said 'yes.'"

"Really?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I would have been. My Jack would need a little more evidence to convince him, so if you'd taken me at my word, it would have proved you don't have as much in common as I thought."

There was that designation again, "my Jack." For some reason it bothered him when she referred to the other him as "hers" as if he could never be considered for that position. He found he wanted to be thought of in that capacity.

Jack squinted. "You know, maybe just for clarity's sake, we can call him 'O'Neill.' Whadda ya say?"

Sam looked at him, and he could see she was trying to ascertain why he'd suggested it. He couldn't be sure, but he thought she got it. Still, she agreed, not asking him for an explanation, for which he was grateful, since he didn't actually have an answer.

Trying to dispel the uncomfortable air that had settled over their table, Jack brought her back to her story. "So you figured you were in an alternate reality because there was a DHD. Didn't you tell me you needed that to make the Stargate work?"

Sam looked impressed. "Yes, we do. But you see, in my reality, we'd found the Stargate, but no way to control it. It wasn't until we'd gone to Abydos, where there was a DHD, that we realized there was supposed to be a second device used to operate the 'gate."

Jack was missing a piece again. "So, if you didn't have the thingy to work the Stargate, how did you get to this 'Abydos?'"

"We made one," she said, pride evident in her voice. "Together with Daniel Jackson who'd figured out the glyphs, we built a computer designed to "dial" the 'gate. Part of the reason we decided to call the DHD a 'dial home device.'"

"You made one," he repeated. Jack's hands came up to rub his eyes, as if the action would help him wrap his head around the fact the woman across from him had designed a technology simply because there was a need. He sat back and looked at her. The rest of her story was pure fiction, but for some reason, the look on her face convinced him she _had_ constructed a miraculous device. Whether it worked or not was up for speculation, but he had no doubt she was capable of having figured it out. He was suitably impressed.

"Way smarter than me," he mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

Leaning forward, Jack rested his arms on the table. "I said you're way smarter than me."

Sam looked down at the table, suddenly shy. "It's what General Hammond said to you the day we met. Or rather the day I met O'Neill. He told the colonel I was way smarter than him and I was on his team. End of discussion."

"He didn't want you on his team?" Jack couldn't believe that. Why wouldn't he want her? Unless he was concerned she'd be a distraction. He'd worry about that if it had been his team.

"He wasn't crazy about scientists," she said, smiling affectionately in remembrance. "I changed his mind."

_I bet you did,_ Jack thought. She was already bringing him around and they'd spent only about two hours total in each other's company. "Okay, so you're in this dark room in what you're assuming is an alternate reality. Then what did you do?"

"I left," she said simply.

"You left. Just walked out the door."

"Essentially, yes."

"You're in a top secret military facility and you just left." He found this harder to grasp than that she traveled to other planets.

"I was in my BDUs-Battle Dress Uniform-which I suppose could have been taken as unusual since I was indoors and not on a mission. It isn't uncommon, though. So, I acted as though I belonged there, knew were I was going, and no one questioned me."

"Unbelievable," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Which part?" she smiled.

"That you weren't stopped at any point."

"To get inside would have been impossible without proper documentation, but once you're in, coming out isn't a problem, no one pays much attention. If it makes you feel any better, I did have to steal a Jeep to get out of the facility."

Jack laughed. "Actually, yeah, it does make me feel a little better. Still, you should have at least been stopped at a gate or something."

"I was, but the soldier on duty was a bit over-whelmed when I started in on what Ja-O'Neill calls my 'techno-babble.'"

Jack was nodding in agreement. He'd already been a victim. He could well imagine what the guard would have faced.

"I ditched the Jeep at the first opportunity, and I'm ashamed to say, I stole another vehicle."

Taking a sip of after-dinner coffee to hide his amusement, Jack found he was intrigued by her petty crimes. She might present an innocent facade to the world, but there was a hint of the bad girl in there too, and he found that as hot as her with explosives.

"Well, I doubt the police are looking for you."

"What do you mean?"

"The day we met. That day in the grocery store," he clarified. When she still didn't seem to be following him he added, "you were looking around like you expected some one to catch you. You seemed quite paranoid, actually."

"Oh. That. Well, I guess at that point I was still feeling a bit paranoid."

"And you're not now?"

"Maybe not quite so much. You see, I kept expecting my reappearance on the planet to send up a red flag somewhere. It's been over six months and so far nothing, I guess I'm not the wanted criminal I thought I was," she laughed.

"I would think that would be a relief."

Sam released a breath. "It is, but I still keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? That at some point someone somewhere is going to see that Samantha Carter, who apparently died in a car crash in 1982, is still running around using her same Social Security number as identification. At the very least they'll think my death was faked."

"And there'd be an investigation into why you'd done that, and that could lead to a lot of questions you can't, or rather shouldn't answer," Jack concluded.

"Exactly. So, you're right. I am a bit paranoid."

_And still completely delusional_, Jack thought. There was the part where she made everything seem almost plausible.He could see this woman as an astrophysicist. That part of the story he believed. A Major in the Air Force? Not so much. The thought of her in fatigues, or what was it she called them? BDUs? Carrying a gun or flying a jet seemed like one of her more outlandish claims.

"Jack? You checked out for a minute there," she grinned.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry. A lot to think about, you know?"

Sam was fiddling with her coffee saucer. "Yeah. I know. Just don't dismiss it out of hand, okay?" He didn't know what to say to that, so he glanced at his watch, changing the subject.

"Gosh! Would you look at the time," he joked, smirking. "It _is_ a school night, after all."

Sam echoed his sly smile. "I have to be up early too."

"What time do you go in?"

"Five a.m.," she said, reaching for her purse.

"That's insane!"

She shrugged. "Well, if you want breakfast before you head off to work, someone else has to be at work before you. Besides, this way I get my afternoons free."

"I guess," he conceded. Sam pulled out her wallet and started removing bills when he stopped her. "This is on me," he said. "I'm the one who called you."

"Yeah, but I spent the evening trying to convince you I'm from another reality. Gee, when I say it like that, it does sound ludicrous!"

"Ya think?" Sam laughed and dropped her hand on top of his. The sudden contact seemed surprisingly intimate, and she quickly pulled her hand back as if she'd stepped over some invisible line.

"How about if we split it?" she asked.

Jack was slightly taken aback by the turnabout in her demeanor. One moment she was relaxed and joking, and the next she acted like she'd over-stepped her bounds. He liked it when she wasn't so reserved; she fairly sparkled. Now, she'd pulled back and was all business and he felt his enjoyment in the evening being sucked away.

"Sure," he said, quoting her half of the bill and tip. She produced a stack of ones, smiling sheepishly.

"Hazard of waitressing. All the ones," she said, gesturing to the money. Jack counted the amount and tried to hand the excess back to her. "Give it to the waiter," she said, edging towards the end of the booth. "He was good."

"Yeah, he was," Jack agreed, standing, wondering how to keep the conversation going. She'd relayed her tale, he'd listened, and now he wasn't sure what to say to her. The silence stretched between them as they made their way to the cashier, and Jack watched Sam pretending to admire tacky reproductions of Italian renaissance art. "Do you need a ride?" he offered, as they exited the building.

"Actually, if you don't mind. . . . It'll be an hour before the next bus, and like I said, I've got an early morning."

"Not a problem," he said. "I'm parked over here." Before he could point out his truck, Sam started walking towards the vehicle. "Let me guess. O'Neill drives a black F-250," he said tersely. Sam came to a dead stop, and he almost crashed into her.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking over her shoulder, obviously distressed. "I can see it bothers you when I have information I shouldn't know. Especially personal information."

He wanted to deny it, but couldn't. Really, it bugged the hell out of him and frankly, freaked him out. "It's just. . .I don't know, unnerving. You think you're a unique individual, and then here you are, reading me like a Tarot card. It's weird. Maybe if I had some kind of inside information on you, you'd know what I mean."

"What would you like to know?"

"You telling me isn't the same thing. You can edit what you reveal," he responded immediately. "It not like me ordering pizza for you because I know what you like on it without asking."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Actually, that's a pretty good analogy. I'm sorry, Jack. I don't do it on purpose. It's more like I forget. It's just you look so much like him, and _respond_ the way he would, and. . . ." suddenly her words were choked off, eyes filling with tears. She pressed to her hand to her mouth, turning away to shield herself from his gaze.

Now he really did feel like crap. He hadn't meant to upset her, only try to get her to understand how her comparison to another version of himself wasn't natural.

"C'mere," he said, automatically wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The action seemed to distress her even more, and Jack was totally lost as to how to console her. She sobbed against his shoulder, crying so hard, he felt the moisture penetrate the heavy cloth of his polo shirt. He rubbed her back, saying nothing, hoping the Human contact was enough.

Finally, her crying subsided to a few hiccups, and she gently pushed away from him, her cheeks as red as her eyes. She took the Kleenex he offered her, dabbing her eyes.

"Some tough Air Force Major, huh?" she tried to joke.

"It's okay. I never believed you were in the military anyway," he grinned. Sam laughed at that, using a dry corner of the tissue to blow her nose. "You all right?"

"Better," she said, giving him a watery smile. "That offer of a ride still open?"

"It is." He walked her to the truck, opening the door and giving her a hand up. Her smile was still tremulous when she looked into his eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly, breaking their stare.

"Don't mention it." They rode in silence to her home, and for once, the lack of words didn't seem uncomfortable. He still wished he could think of something to say, but the need to fill the air with chatter had dissipated. He could see Sam was lost in her thoughts and he didn't pressure her to reveal them.

"This is it," she said, gathering her bag. "On the right."

Jack pulled his truck up to the curb but didn't cut the engine. Turning, Sam gave him a genuine smile.

"Thanks for a great evening, Jack." At his scoff, she added. "Seriously, you don't know how much I needed to tell someone about what's happened to me. Even if you don't believe it." She turned her face to the window and took a deep breath. "And thanks for literally letting me cry on your shoulder." She turned back, smiling at him.

She seemed to be hesitating. Was she waiting for him to kiss her? He knew he wanted to, but with the way her emotions were all over the map, he didn't know if it would be his smartest move. He was about to lean forward when Sam suddenly grabbed her purse, leaping from the truck. She shut the door and was up the stairs to the entryway before he could even yell at her to wait. She waved from the vestibule, but he continued to wait until he saw a light come on in the upper left apartment. He didn't know for sure it was hers, but he hadn't seen anyone else enter the building.

He sat there for a few more moments, cursing his lack of initiative. She wanted him to kiss her. He could see that. After staring at her fascinating mouth all night, he knew he _wanted_ to kiss her. Something was holding him back, he realized, as he pulled out onto the street. It wasn't her emotionalism, or even his nerves. It was when she was looking at him, all she saw was this O'Neill she was missing. Not Jonathan O'Neill, high school chemistry teacher and single father. Some day, when she looked at him, really looked at _him,_ then he would kiss her. Until then they were acquaintances, people who had met under the oddest circumstances imaginable.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N—Apologies if chapter 5 showed up twice. I was having difficulties posting it.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**6**

Colonel Daniel Jackson tossed his pen down on the desk, rubbing tired eyes. SG-1's last few missions couldn't be termed "successful" by any means, and he was feeling the pressure. Not only from the military, but the President and Vice-President as well. While President Hayes was supportive of the Stargate Coalition, he tended to shunt the responsibility of its oversight to Robert Kinsey, who was less than enthusiastic about the SGC's mission and its use of government allocated funds.

Daniel wasn't looking forward to his scheduled meeting with Kinsey. He prided himself on his diplomatic abilities-it had been the reason he'd been chosen to lead SG-1-but Vice-President Kinsey tested every bit of tact Daniel possessed. The meeting was sure to give him a headache, and he popped a couple of pills in anticipation.

A knock on his door brought Daniel out of his musings. "Sir?" Charlie Kawalsky asked, poking his head into the office, "The Vice-President is here." It was more respect than the Major usually gave Kinsey. _More respect than he deserved_, Daniel thought, gathering notes and straightening his uniform. He'd wanted to stay in his BDUs as a subtle jab to the pompous politician, but the general had warned him, only this morning, that they couldn't afford to alienate Kinsey and to pull out all the stops. That included dress uniforms.

Daniel straightened his tie. "Ready, Kawalsky?"

Giving his CO a crooked grin, he replied, "Are we ever?"

Daniel's lips quirked into an ironic grin of his own. "What about Feretti and Fraiser?"

"Outside the conference room, waiting for you." They rounded a corner and came upon the rest of their team.

"Colonel."

"Colonel."

Daniel nodded at them, noticing they relaxed a fraction. It was comforting to know they had confidence in his ability to deal with Kinsey, but he wished for all their sakes so much wasn't riding on this meeting. "Shall we?" Daniel asked, pushing open the door to the conference room. The general was seated at the opposite end of the table from the Vice-President, and SG-1 quickly took their chairs around the table. Feretti and Kawalsky on the far side, Janet next to the general, leaving the only other seat for Daniel next to Kinsey.

Placing his files on the table, Daniel extended a hand towards the dignitary who was leaning back in his chair. "Mr. Vice-President," he said, hoping his smile seemed welcoming. Kinsey obviously wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, ignoring Daniel's out-stretched hand. He launched immediately into his concerns.

"Colonel Jackson, I've been looking over your reports and it's obvious to myself and my advisors that SG-1 has recently been causing more harm than good with your recent missions. The Tollan in particular could have been potential allies had you not botched things up."

Daniel felt his temper rising, and he clenched his fists in an effort to keep his tone moderate. "Sir, if you _have_ read the report, you know it was a cultural misunderstanding, for which we and the Tollan have officially apologized to each other. They feel allowing less developed cultures access to technology they're not ready for, is a breach of their obligations as the technologically superior race. It wasn't mean as a slur to the people of Earth, only the truth as they see it."

"_Oblige Noblesse?"_ Kinsey supplied.

"Something like that, yes. If the NID had stayed out of things, we'd probably still be on speaking terms with them. As it is, the Replicators move closer by the day, and other than guns, we have nothing with which to slow them down, much less stop them."

Not to be put off, Kinsey pointed out it was SG-1's interaction with Reese that had been the catalyst for the Replicators becoming a threat to the galaxy in the first place. He was working himself up into a real fury when Janet spoke.

"Mr. Vice-President, I'm sorry for interrupting, but I have to disagree that SG-1 is wholly to blame for every misstep. Granted there have been certain incidences where we didn't handle things in the most appropriate manner." Here she stopped for a breath and darted a glance at Daniel. "But for the most part we've done more good out there than harm."

Robert moved forward, leaning his forearms on the table. "You make a salient point, Major. . . ."

"Fraiser, sir."

"Fraiser. You're the xeno-biologist, right? I'm sure getting the chance to examine alien races has been fascinating for you." Janet's gaze traveled the room, uncertain.

"Yes, sir."

"So I'm sure you'd do anything, _say_ anything to keep this program going. Am I right?"

Daniel watched Janet draw a breath. He'd worked with her long enough to know it was taking every ounce of restraint she possessed not to leap to her feet an throttle the man.

"With all due respect, sir, I think you've misunderstood what I'm trying. . ."

"What _I'm_ trying to say Major is this mess isn't merely the realm of SG-1. They entire SGC is to blame for the predicament this great country of ours, indeed the world, now faces. If you hadn't mettled in extra-terrestrial affairs, we would still be safe from the scourge you've unleashed."

"That's ridiculous!" Daniel exploded. "The Replicators would be coming whether we were out there or not! At least now we know they're headed our way and maybe, just maybe we can come up with a solution before they start eating everything in sight! You shut us down and there's not a chance in Hell Earth will survive!"

"Colonel Jackson!" The general reprimanded sharply, "Stand down!"

"What was the point of this anyway?" Daniel was on his feet, extending a finger in Kinsey's direction. "He decided long before he got here he was going to shut us down!"

Kinsey leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, a smug grin on his face. "That's where you're wrong, Colonel. I have every intention of letting you get us out of this mess. In fact, I insist you take charge of the situation. The fate of our planet is this command's responsibility." Kinsey stood, gathering reports Daniel knew he hadn't even cracked open. "And after the threat has passed," he said with menacing quiet, "You and I are going to have a conversation. Don't expect it to be a long one." With that, Vice-President Robert Kinsey swept from the conference room.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N—two chapters today as they're both extremely short.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

7

Sam let her bag drop onto the futon, running a hand through her shoulder length hair. What had gotten into her? Not only did she _cry_ all over Jack, she'd been sitting in his truck, waiting for him to kiss her good-night. Perhaps she could blame it on her loneliness, and connecting with him had relieved some of that. She had to remember, he _didn't_ know her, and her repeated acts of familiarity were off-putting to say the least. It bothered him she knew things about him, the same as it had irked her the first time she'd met herself from another reality. If anyone could relate to the "weirdness" of the situation, it should be her.

Well, the point was probably moot. She doubted she'd ever see or hear from Jack O'Neill from this reality again. Why should she? She'd woven a tale he wanted no part of and didn't believe. Since he had no connection to the SGC or it's counter-part, or the military, there was no reason she needed him.

Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely true. She'd had a good time, and it had nothing to do with the fact he'd let her ramble on about coming from a different universe. She'd enjoyed being in his company.

Of course she'd never been on a date with the Colonel in her reality, and this evening had felt like an illicit pleasure. The chance to see what he was like without the uniform. The scary part was, she liked what she'd seen, and since she was already half in love with her colonel, it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. She needed to remember this _wasn't_ her Jack, and it was unfair to both of them to pretend he was.

Sighing, Sam stood and checked her computer. No new e-mail that had any actual relevance. There were plenty of catalog companies vying for her patronage, but nothing of real value. Why she thought there would be, she didn't know.

She began fixing herself a cup of tea, knowing she needed to find a way to slow her mind down if she was ever going to get some sleep. While the water heated, she converted the futon into her bed, trying to clear her mind from all the questions. What should her next move be? Should she be giving up? Accept the fact she was stuck here and work at moving on? Maybe she should go back to school to get accreditation in this reality so she could become an astrophysicist again. Maybe she should look into the military? That probably wasn't going to work. She was too old to be starting over again, and just because she'd tell them she'd been a Major, she had no proof.

The tea pot whistled and she turned to the stove, picking up the kettle and pouring boiling water over the bag. The aroma was already starting to relax her, and she looked forward to savoring the cup. Sitting on the edge of her bed, sipping the hot liquid, she tried to empty her mind. She was fairly successful until snippets of the evening came back to her. The way Jack had smiled at her, the lame jokes that seemed such a part of his personality no matter which reality he was in. The way he looked when he talked about Charlie, how proud he was of his son. _This was how the Colonel could have been_, she thought, and it saddened her to think how grief had had such a profound effect on him.

Changing into her nightwear, Sam climbed between the sheets, hoping sleep would come soon, because before she knew it, the alarm would be going off, heralding another day in Bizzaro World.

XXXXXX

Jack pulled up to his house, relieved the only light was coming from the porch and the nightlight in the entryway. He didn't want to face Charlie's questions and jibes right now. Mostly because he didn't know how he'd answer him. How was his date? _Good,_ he reasoned. What did you talk about? _How life was similar and different at the same time where she came from. _Where was that? _Second reality to the right and straight on 'till morning. _He had to joke about it to himself to wrap his head around it.

Climbing from his truck, he fiddled with the key chain as he took a seat on the porch swing. He'd had a nice time. It certainly beat grading papers while some sports event droned on in the background. It was also refreshing to talk to someone out of the school system. To remember there was more to life than inattentive students and gossip in the teacher's lounge. Other than her whacky story, they hadn't touched on too many different subjects, but he could sense she could probably converse on a great many topics. She hadn't been offended by his off-beat sense of humor. In fact she "got" him more than most people who'd known him for years.

Bottom line was, he liked her. It was more than just the fact he found her attractive. There was something else there that intrigued him. Made him want to call her up even now to tell her what an enjoyable evening it had turned out to be. Could he do that? Just pick up the phone and call her so the last sound he heard was her voice? No. Too pushy. Maybe he could do coffee in the morning, though. Sure. Show up at the diner before school for some coffee and conversation. People did that. He wouldn't class them as friends, exactly, but it could become that.

With renewed energy, Jack stood, tossing his keys into the air and deftly catching them. Yup, coffee. A mere six hours from now. . . .


	8. Chapter 8

A/N—Thanks so much for the reviews; I really appreciate them!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**8**

Sam looked up to see Jill pointing behind her, indicating she had a new customer. She'd been off her game most of the morning, and was grateful for the tabs Jill kept on her. Sleep had eluded her until it was nearly time to get up, and it showed. Trying hard to look awake, Sam's forced smile turned genuine when she saw her next customer.

"Jack! What are you doing here?"

Jack's grin was practically a smirk. "You do serve coffee here, don't you?"

"Yes, but. . ."

"So, I'd like a cup," he said, straddling the stool and sitting down. "I believe you know how I like it." Sam couldn't help her own grin from forming. She figured since he could joke about her fore-knowledge, it had to be a good sign. The fact he was sitting at the counter of her workplace at six a.m. also had to be a good sign. Suddenly, her day didn't seem quite as grim.

Turning back to the coffee maker, Sam heard Jill whispering in her ear. "I hope you know that guy, because he hasn't taken his eyes off your ass since he sat down." Jill's comment caused Sam's grin to widen further. The thought that Jack was blatantly checking her out was actually flattering. She couldn't remember the last time someone had noticed her as a woman, and not Major Carter.

Placing a cup on the counter, Sam filled it from her fresh pot. "I'm a little surprised to see you. It's awfully early."

Jack shrugged. "It's a little earlier than I normally start my day, but this way I'll have time to prepare for my first class. Plus, Charlie's old enough to get himself off to school. If he isn't he'll learn pretty quick." Sam nodded, unsure what to say. "I had a nice time last night," Jack added, the volume of his voice dropping to a more intimate level.

"I did too," Sam admitted, suddenly feeling a little shy.

"We should do it again sometime," Jack suggested, gazing into her eyes as he took a sip from his cup.

"That would be nice," she agreed.

"How about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Unless you're busy. I mean you probably have all kinds of things you'd rather be doing. Better things than going out with me. More important things. Astrophysicist things. More. . ."

"I'd love to," she said, feeling a blush staining her cheeks. Why was she feeling so shy around him? She hadn't been this uncomfortable durning dinner.

"You would?" Jack seemed astounded she'd accepted. At that moment, the cook's patience had worn thin and he yelled at her.

"Sam! Table ten! Order up! Let's go before these eggs turn into chickens!" She mouthed a "later" to Jack, as she hustled to deliver the meal the cook was pushing around under the heat lamp. The first breakfast rush had started and she hadn't had a chance to get back to Jack other than to refill his cup as she made her way down the counter. She could feel his gaze on her and it was blowing her concentration. She'd made more mistakes in the next half hour than she had her first day on the job. Maybe she should ask him to leave, but she didn't want him to go. It was reassuring to catch him from the corner of her eye and see him pretending to read his newspaper.

Sam was about to top off his coffee when Jack stood. "I gotta get going, " he said, tucking the paper under his arm. "So, about later. . . ."

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to get back to you," she said, clearing his spot as they spoke. "Do you have something in mind?"

Jack looked nervous. "I was thinking maybe a picnic?"

Sam was surprised. Jack had never seemed like a picnic kind of guy. Of course they'd shared rations in the field, but that was hardly the same as a meal planned in the outdoors. It sounded like a great idea to her, and she told him that.

"I'm done at one-thirty. How about I pick up something up on the way home?"

"If you don't mind. . . . I'm not free until four. I'll pick you up at your place?"

"Sounds good," she said, smiling him, then turning her attention to the next occupant at the counter. Suddenly, she felt a whole lot lighter.

XXXXXX

Sam and Jack were loaded with picnic goods, searching for a place to set down their burdens. "How about that tree over there?" Sam suggested, nodding towards a spreading evergreen.

"As good as any," Jack grunted, shifting the items he was carrying. Both of them were losing half their load before they reached the tree. Laughing, Sam volunteered to retrieve the stragglers if he would spread the blanket.

Opening up the newly-purchased Styrofoam cooler, Jack surveyed it's contents. "So, what did you pick up?"

"Nothing fancy. Potato salad, cold fried chicken. Cake."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Cake?"

"Vanilla," she confirmed with a smile.

"Where's the forks?" Jack asked, searching through plastic grocery bags. Sam was grinning, shaking her head. Of course he wouldn't want to fill up on such mundane things as a meal when there was dessert to be had.

"Carter, did you get plates?" Sam stopped dead, feeling her eyes widen. At her silence, Jack looked up.

"Sam? You okay?"

Swallowing, Sam merely nodded. "Why. . ." she cleared her throat. "Why did you call me that?"

Jack shrugged. "Bad habit, I guess. I call my friend Charlie 'Kawalsky' more often than not. Most of my other acquaintances too, I guess." At her continued silence, Jack tried to apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

Sam looked down, brushing her lengthening hair behind her ears. "I'm not offended it's just that. . ."

"He calls you that," Jack finished.

Sam looked up, feeling sheepish. "Yeah." Concentrating on unpacking their picnic, Sam avoided his gaze. "I know you still don't believe me about the whole alternate universe thing, but you've kind of just proved it, haven't you?"

Jack looked confused. "What do you mean?"

She met his gaze, now. "Well, the way I reacted. Obviously I've been called 'Carter' by 'you' before, and this is the first time _you_," she said, pointing at him, "have called me by my last name."

Jack took a seat on the blanket, fiddling with a white plastic fork. He didn't speak, and a frown creased his brow. It was obvious he was mulling over his options: believe her or not. Sam had hoped he was starting to come to grips with the information she'd imparted, but she couldn't read his expression.

"Pass the cake, please?" he quietly asked. Sam handed him the clear plastic container and watched as Jack dug his fork into the square of cake. Several bites later, he looked up at her. "Sorry, no plates," he reiterated, apologizing for his impolite behavior.

"Yeah, I guess I spaced them." She was still watching Jack, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He sighed, as if he'd given up the fight, and was ready to go peacefully.

"Well, since 'Carter' has been taken, I guess I'll have to come up with something else."

_"_I don't mind if you call me 'Carter,'" she stated quickly. "It's kind of nice, actually. A little piece of home, if you will." Jack gave her a wan smile, and she realized she'd probably hurt his feelings. This was _his_ home and she was treating Jack like the only value she saw in him and his world was a way to combat her loss.

"How about we change the subject?" Jack proposed.

Sam reached for a chicken wing, agreeing whole-heartedly. "First item of new business," Jack said. "Beer or wine?"

"You brought both?"

"Well, I wasn't sure. You can maybe read me like a book, but you're new territory for me, Samantha."

_Samantha_. She'd never liked her full name, but the way he said it, she was gaining new appreciation. Had the Colonel ever called her that? She couldn't remember, but the way she felt at the sound of him speaking her name, she would have found it memorable.

Jack was snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Hey, you kind of checked out there," he grinned.

"Sorry," she said, feeling her face warming. "It's a big decision, you know. Wine or beer."

"Yes, I can see it would take a lot of contemplation," he dead-panned. She noticed he was having beer, and opted to join him. With the lack of plates, they were both eating from the container of potato salad.

"I feel like Judy Garland sharing a soda with Mickey Rooney," she practically giggled.

Jack reclined back onto his elbow, still wielding his fork. "Well, you're cute enough to be Judy, but I'm way too tall to be Mickey." Sam blushed again at his compliment.

"You do that a lot, you know. The blushing thing," he clarified. Sam could feel the heat in her cheeks increasing.

"Not that it isn't adorable as hell, it's just I can't believe you haven't been showered with compliments most of your life."

Sam did her best to regain her composure. "It still isn't cool to be the smart girl," she said, stabbing her fork into the potato salad and leaving it. "And it certainly wasn't when I was going to school."

Jack rolled over onto his stomach, balancing on his elbows. "And when might that have been?"

Sam gave him an enigmatic smile. "Is this your not-so-clever way of asking how old I am, Jack O'Neill?" While she was asking her question, Sam moved to emulate his posture, lying on her stomach facing him.

"Too in your face?"

"Subtlety is not your forte," she grinned. "I'm thirty-five and I know you're fifty-one."

"Don't be pushing me over the hill quite yet! I've got a few months left."

"You're right. Sorry, si. . Jack." With that small slip, Sam watched a change come over him. She really wasn't thinking of "her" Jack. It was just such a habit, she didn't even realize what she started to say. She tried to apologize, but he gave her a sad smile.

"Don't sweat it." Sam didn't know what to say without sticking her foot further into it, so she reached for the box of eclairs she'd bought for herself. Not that they were her exclusive domain, but she figured the cake would distract Jack from her treat. She was wrong.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, reaching for her box he now held at arm's length. "You've got cake!"

"And apparently I also have eclairs," he said, giving her his most wicked little boy smile. He was cute and he knew it, and God, how her heart ached to see that grin. One thing he hadn't counted on was her hand-to-hand combat skills. He might have superior strength, but she'd been military trained.

Before he was even aware, Jack was flat on his back, divested of the eclair box. Sam was astride his chest, pinning his arms with her knees as she withdrew a pastry, taking a bite. She chewed slowly, savoring the sweet cream on her tongue. Watching him, she saw Jack swallow convulsively as she licked chocolate and filling from her lips. Their gazes locked and she was suddenly aware Jack wanted to kiss her. Almost unconsciously she was moving towards him, hypnotized by his eyes. Their lips had almost touched when suddenly a football landed square in the middle of their picnic, startling them into separation.

An athletic boy, somewhere in his late teens, jogged up, to retrieve the ball Jack tossed at him. A half-hearted, "Hey, sorry, dude," was all the boy managed by way of an apology.

Sam looked over at Jack, self-conscious about what had almost passed between them. While she had over six years of history with "him," she was something new for Jack, making this "relationship"-if she could even call it that-seem to be moving way too fast.

She could understand the heady feeling of connecting with someone on an emotional level almost from the time you met. Isn't that what was happening with her? Add into that a man who hadn't dated since his wife died, and you had an explosive mix. Two lonely people with different agendas, heading towards the same conclusion.

"Come on," he said, standing and extending his hand to her. "Let's take a walk along the lake."

Sam reached up, accepting his help to stand. No matter which Jack he was, he always seemed to know what it took to break the awkward tension between them.

XXXXXX

Jack offered his hand to Sam, who took it with a smile. He almost wished she'd stop giving him _that_ grin so he could ground himself once more. _Almost wished_, he thought. If she did stop, he knew he would do just about anything to make it return.

How long had he known Samantha Carter? A day or two tops? So how was it in a matter of hours he was already falling under her spell? He was even starting to give her the benefit of the doubt over her wild claims. Perhaps if she hadn't shown up, seemingly from out of nowhere, he wouldn't have been so captivated. As it was, he felt like a teenager encountering love for the first time. Even with Sara he hadn't felt this out of control. He felt a stab of guilt at that thought. _Sara_. _Had he forgotten her so quickly?_

Jack felt a nudge at his shoulder. "You okay?" she asked, gazing up at him with concerned eyes.

"Yeah. Just a lot on my mind." She nodded in understanding as if she too felt the weight of their attraction. But she had had a head start, he reasoned. No matter how professional she claimed her relationship with O'Neill had been, he could sense she wouldn't have let her guard down as quickly as she had if there hadn't been something personal between the two of them. She'd been looking for signs of O'Neill within him. Jack felt slightly ashamed he'd used that to his advantage. Last time he saw her he vowed he wouldn't kiss her until he was sure she knew who she was locking lips with. Now he was not so certain.

"So, was Charlie okay with you being gone this morning?" The question seemed to come from left field, but he recognized her attempt at getting a conversation started again.

"Yeah," he grinned. "He accused me of having a sleep-over."

Sam coughed at that. "Really? I hope you set him straight!"

"Are you kidding? I have to do _something_ to make him think his old man isn't over the hill and in the valley beyond!"

Sam slapped his arm none-too-gently. "Jack! He's an impressionable kid! What kind of an example is that setting if he thinks we slept together after one date?"

Jack stopped walking. "Was it a date?" Sam seemed flustered by his question.

"I. . .I guess it was. I mean you asked. . . ."

He pulled her closer, running his fingers into her hair. "And is this a date?" he asked softly. Her eyes were staring straight into his and he felt as if he was tingling everywhere at once.

"I. . .Yes," she confirmed shyly. She tried to look away but the fingers of his free hand guided her chin to face him again. Slowly he closed his eyes, leaning forward, capturing her lips with his.

At first Sam just stood there, either too surprised or too outraged to move. He hoped it wasn't outrage as he slipped his hand to the back of her head, caressing her neck. Their tongues tangled, and for endless moments the outside world ceased to exist. When they finally broke apart, Sam stared at him with such passion, he wondered why they had to be in a public venue.

"Oh, God. . . ." she breathed, and then she was kissing him again. They did even better the second time, Jack decided, and truly thought his brain had short-circuited. Pulling her closer, he rested his chin on top her head, stroking her soft hair.

"Wow," he managed, wondering how it was he had any breath left to speak.

"Yeah," she added, as inarticulate as himself. Sam buried her face in his chest, clutching the back of his shirt for a minute before pushing away.

"Sam?" he asked, wondering at her sudden change.

"Um, we should probably go," she said, tracing her lips with her fingers. He wondered if she was trying to memorize the feel of their kiss, or wipe the sensation away.

"Did I. . .?"

She turned around to face him, eyes pleading. "Please, Jack, it's not you. Don't ever think. . . ."

"Then what?" he asked, taking her by the shoulders forcing her to look at him.

"I'm so conflicted about. . .him," she said. "I don't want to use you as a stand-in. You're a great guy. You deserve someone who cares about you for your uniqueness, not someone who sees another man every time she looks at you." She started to pull away but he held her fast.

"Sam, we can talk about this! Sure it's weird, but you'll love me once you get to know me," he joked. For some reason his words caused her to burst into tears, and she didn't fight him as he pulled her close. "What did I say?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"It was our first mission," she said, moving away, wiping her eyes. "I told the Colonel he'd love me once he got to know me."

"And I'm guessing he did."

"I. . .I've never really been sure. I mean I thought. . . ."

"Then he's an idiot. Which begs the obvious question: why would you want to be with such a loser?" Again he was joking, but it seemed everything that came from his mouth set her off again. "Sam, come on," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He didn't do crying women. Sara could get him to agree to almost anything just by _looking_ as though she might cry. The fact Sam had left his shirts damp two days in a row was making him feel like he was totally ill-suited to say anything to her.

The mood for their picnic had been destroyed, brought down by his impetuous actions. Why the hell hadn't he given her a little space? Jack rubbed his hand over his face.

"Do you want to go?"

Sam didn't answer immediately. "I guess so. I'm sorry I reacted so badly. That I keep reacting badly. I'm usually not this emotional or indecisive."

Picking up her hand, Jack ran his fingers over hers. "You've been through a lot. Lost a lot. I know how that feels." Sam nodded.

"Why don't you come over? We'll just watch some TV, nothing special, just hang out so neither one of us has to go home to an empty house."

"Isn't Charlie home?"

"He's probably at his girlfriend's. If he isn't, he'll be in his room, leaving me to rattle around the house. . . ." He tried to pout but just couldn't do it. At least the face made her smile. "No pressure," he promised.

A grin pulled at Sam's lips. "Okay. Besides," she said, poking him in the chest. "I can't leave you with all that cake, can I?"

**A/N—**To celebrate posting this chapter, I made eclairs at work today :-)!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N-Today's virtual dessert is tiramisu. Enjoy guilt-free :-)!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**9**

Jack had become a regular at stool number eight, six-thirty a.m., Monday thru Thursday. Friday was her day off, and Sam suspected it was the day he chose to "sleep-in." She never asked Jill if Jack showed up; she just knew he hadn't. Friday nights were her time with him, and sometimes Saturday or Sunday afternoons. She looked forward to their time together, a little more than she should, she realized. Still, she was fighting the battle between her warring emotions. This Jack could be funny and sweet, and without the bitter edge Colonel O'Neill often displayed. That's not to say if _her_ Jack was outside the military element, he might not react the same way. She knew, however, Charlie's death would still cast a shadow over him. That, she decided, was really what set the two men apart.

Sam sighed. She still continued to think of the Colonel as _her_ Jack, when in reality-this reality-Jack O'Neill, high school teacher, was more "hers." She knew all she had to do was stop fighting herself and Jack would be at her door, and in her bed in a heartbeat. So what was the real stumbling block? Feeling disloyal to the Colonel who was bound by the fraternization regulations? Or that by accepting Jack, she was essentially giving up on getting back to her universe? It was probably both, and she wondered how this was going to play out, because she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do.

Jack tapped her shoulder with a bottle of beer, the cold and wet from the condensation startled her out of her reverie.

"Sorry," he said, wiping the moisture from her arm. The warmth of his hand felt good despite the heatwave Denver was experiencing.

"It's okay," she smiled, a bit ruefully she guessed, judging from his expression.

"You all right?"

Sam turned back from the patio door she'd been staring out of. She liked Jack's yard. Even on the hottest days it offered a cool respite. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"I've noticed you do a lot of that," he teased, taking a sip from his own beer, plunking down on the sofa. Sam joined him, picking up the television remote. Jack's mock outrage caused her to smile in triumph.

"You said if I came over I could watch what I wanted," she reminded him.

Jack leaned his head back on the sofa staring up at the ceiling. "Ah, yes. I do recall something about that. Did I sound as if I meant it?"

Sam giggled. "You were dead serious."

"Oh." A moment passed before he added, "NOVA?" She nodded. "Figures."

"Jack, I would think you would find it fascinating, you being a science teacher and all."

"Why would I want to watch a science program when it's what I do all day?" he whined

"It's what I do, well did, and I still like to watch it."

"You're weird," he pronounced, leaning over to kiss her. It didn't take Sam long to get caught up in the moment, and probably would have forgotten about NOVA entirely if Charlie hadn't walked into the room.

"Jeeze, are you two at it _again_?" he taunted. "Why don't you just go and get it out of your system?"

Jack rolled over, leaving his head in Sam's lap. "And give you ideas?"

"Dad," Charlie sighed, "You act as if I've never seen people making out before. Although, you've probably damaged my psyche by subjecting me to icky-old-people-making-out."

"Charlie! You apologize to Sam!"

Sam was on her feet in seconds, pummeling Jack with a sofa cushion. "Hey! It was just a joke!" he cried, doing his best to defend himself from her onslaught.

"You crazy kids," Charlie clucked, shaking his head.

The remainder of Jack's beer ended up down the front of his shirt. "Sam! Look what you did!" Jack cried, holding his sodden shirt out from his chest. "Now I have to change, and it was my last clean shirt," he groused. "You," he said, pointing a finger at his son, "Behave."

Charlie flopped down in the chair opposite the sofa, his legs dangling over the arm. "Sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to insult you."

Sam gave him an affectionate smile. "You didn't. And you saved your Dad from having to watch NOVA."

Charlie nodded with a knowing smile. "I'm surprised he let you near the remote. It must be love," he quipped.

Sam looked down, fiddling with the edge of her shirt. "Hey, I'm sorry," Charlie said with genuine sincerity, "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just that I've never seen my dad so happy. Well, I sort of remember what he was like before Mom died. But this is the first time in years he smiles all the time. Especially when he mentions your name. Which is all the time, I might add."

"He makes me smile, too," Sam confessed, still not meeting Charlie's gaze.

"You know, I don't care if the two of you sleep together," Charlie added, his feet twitching nervously as they hung over the chair arm.

"Charlie!"

"Well, in case that was what was holding you back or anything," he said. Now it was his gaze that wouldn't meet hers.

Choosing her words carefully, Sam tried to formulate a response. "That's part of it, I suppose, but it's complicated. There's a lot going on that you don't understand."

Charlie looked up, expectantly. "You could tell me."

Sam smiled at his wheedling. "It's between me and your dad. When we're ready, we'll tell you."

Sighing, Charlie righted himself in the chair and pushed himself to standing. "I guess adults are the same wherever you go." It wasn't a censure, exactly, but Sam felt a wave of defensiveness rising within her. How could she explain it to Charlie when she didn't understand it herself? Although, he probably would have bought into the whole multi-verse thing faster than Jack had. She wasn't sure he still had. The impression she had of Jack was he was making allowances for her eccentricities. She could live with that, she decided.

Jack stepped into the living room, shifting his gaze between the two occupants. "Everything okay?" he ventured.

Sam stood, reaching over to squeeze Charlie's arm. "Everything is just fine, right?"

The grin that had obviously been passed down from father to son lit Charlie's face. "Everything's great, Dad. Really." Jack still surveyed the two of them skeptically, then gave up on the subject.

"Did I stay away long enough for NOVA to be over?"

XXXXXX

Jack pulled up to the curb outside of Sam's apartment. "I had a nice time, tonight," he said, cutting the engine.

"Me too." Silence hung between them, causing Jack to start fidgeting. Something was up with her; that much was obvious. He wondered if Charlie had said something to upset her, but she assured him it had nothing to do with his son.

She'd been off from the time she showed up at his house. While they'd never made any specific plans, she usually arrived on his doorstep after her Saturday shift. Jack took the silence as long as he could, then turned to her, rubbing her upper arm.

"Come on. What is it? I know something's up." It took a few more minutes before she answered.

"I was just thinking about something Charlie had said."

"You told me this had nothing to do with. . ."

Sam turned to him, "He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know."

Jack felt his eyebrows come together. "Then what. . . ."

Sam's smile was rueful. "He told me how happy you've been. I can see you are. You're a lot. . .oh, I don't know, lighter? than when I first met you."

Sliding closer, Jack wound his arm over her shoulders, pulling her head down to rest under his chin. "I think you know why."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "I feel a lot better too, you know. I don't feel so alone."

"You're not," he assured her, shifting her closer.

"I haven't given up on getting back," she stated vehemently and Jack wondered where her odd segue had come from.

"I don't suppose you have. You're not the kind of person who gives in without a fight."

"And I realize I've been fighting myself." Sam sat up straighter, looking him in the eyes. "I also realize I've been putting my life on hold, living as though at any minute I'll be given the chance to return to my reality."

Jack didn't know what to say to that, although he had to admit, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not that she'd return to this mythical alternate reality she believed so strongly in, but that she'd just be gone, moved on to another city, and another life.

"I came to the conclusion it's just not going to happen. Maybe someday," she shrugged, "But if it was possible, it probably would have happened by now." She sounded sad, but not particularly sorry for herself.

"I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say."

Sam leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't chaste, a quick peck or even a longer, tongue-tangling until-we-meet-again sort of kiss. She wanted him. _Him_, he realized. Not the heroic Colonel O'Neill of her past, not the superior who was out of her reach, but him, living and breathing and willing to do anything to make this kiss last forever. Because God help him, he loved her. He never imagined he could fall so fast after Sara. Never imagined he'd _ever_ fall after Sara. But Samantha Carter had turned his life on its head the moment she spoke to him in the cereal aisle of a suburban Safeway.

"Stay," she said, her eyes shining with passion and warmth. He wouldn't ascribe love, but the possibility existed.

Jack swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She closed her eyes briefly as if saying a final farewell. She met his gaze without hesitation. "I'm sure."

A slow grin came to Jack's lips. "Do you know how I like my eggs?" he queried.

"Absolutely no idea."

"Just the way I like them," he said, capturing her lips once more.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N-I had some time before work this morning so this is coming early :-)!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

10

Daniel looked up as Charlie Kawalsky plunked a DVD on his desk. Before he could ask, Charlie answered, "Surveillance footage from nine months ago."

"I didn't. . ."

"Boys from security thought you should have a look," he shrugged.

"From nine months ago? If there's been a breech, shouldn't we have heard about it before now?"

Charlie held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Lieutenant Pittman just said you should take a look."

Curious, Daniel slid the disk into his computer, making room at his desk for Kawalsky. "What's the date on the case?"

"November fifth." Charlie's brow wrinkled in concentration. "Hey, wasn't it sometime around then that weird electro-magnetic pulse fried the circuits on the Stargate? The one that had Siler cursing for days?"

Daniel tapped his lips trying to remember the events of last November. As he recalled it, there hadn't even been an announcement of an unscheduled off-world activation. A month prior to the incident, SG-1 had encountered Reese's army of Replicators on P2X-389. Although the team had been successful in stopping the mechanical bugs, the Joint Chiefs of staff, along with then Senator Kinsey, had suspended 'gate travel for an unspecified length of time in the hopes they could stop an invasion through the cosmic portal. Other than the EM pulse, the 'gate room had remained silent, and due to the ever-present budget cuts, security at the time had been at a minimum.

"Yeah, that was the event," Daniel confirmed. "Since we were on stand-down at the time, Siler had weeks to replace the conduits."

"Don't you think it was weird there hadn't been much of an investigation into that incident? I mean with the 'gate shut down after the Replicators and all?" Kawalsky asked.

Daniel shrugged. "You government dollars in _in_action," he sniped. "How long have I been pushing for some kind of safeguard on the ring? You know, some type of shield that won't allow a wormhole to connect?"

"Practically since the inception of the program, I think. How's that working out for you?" Kawalsky grinned.

Daniel started to fast forward through shots of an empty corridor. "My point exactly."

"So what are we looking for, anyway? Shouldn't there have been pictures from inside the 'gate room?"

Daniel kept his eyes on the monitor. "The EM pulse knocked out the cameras along with the 'gate. Because this camera was in the corridor, outside of the 'gate room's shielding, it wasn't affected. We're looking for anything out of the ordinary."

Minutes ticked by with no change in the image displayed on the screen. "Man, aren't you glad you don't have to do this for a living? I mean how tedious do you think. . ."

"What was that?" Daniel asked, sitting up straighter. "Play that bit back, but slow it down." It wasn't much more than a flash, but there was a beat when a person in military garb paused to look up at the camera head on, then turned and ran down the hallway. They continued to watch, hoping for a better look, but the person on the screen didn't reappear.

"That look like anyone you know?" Kawalsky inquired.

Daniel shook his head, gaze never leaving the computer screen. "See if you can freeze on the image of the face." It took several tries, but Charlie managed to single out the frame of the person's visage. It was blurry, and difficult to ascertain the gender.

Charlie was squinting at the screen. "I got nothing. I can't even tell if it's a guy or a woman. The hair's kinda long for a guy, though."

Daniel pushed a few keys and the screen's resolution sharpened just a bit more. "Oh, my God," Daniel murmured. "It's her!"

A/N—Okay, I'm not going to leave you there, especially since this one is so short. Another chapter will be up later today.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**11**

Sam rolled over, encountering Jack's warm body. The futon wasn't roomy to begin with, and the extra body made it positively cramped. She didn't mind. She didn't even mind the less-than-romantic setting, feeling like they'd essentially made love on a mattress in her kitchen.

She looked up to find Jack smiling down at her. "Good morning," he said, running his fingers through her tousled hair.

"Mmmmm," she replied. "It is that." Jack leaned over to kiss her and she met him half-way. Suddenly he pulled back.

"Hey! Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I took the day off. Last week."

"Last week? Just how long have you been planning this, Miss No-Strings?" his tone was teasing, so she didn't take offense.

Sam ran her hand over his chest, toying with the sparse hair. "A few days now, I guess."

"You couldn't let me in on this new revelation?"

Sam leaned up to kiss him once more. "I thought I just did." Jack rolled onto his back, taking her with him and settling her on his shoulder.

"That you did," he sighed, closing his eyes once more. "And then some."

"Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder," she smiled into his chest.

"And my heart is _extremely_ fond," he confirmed, kissing her temple. They lay together in silence for a moment and Sam was sure Jack had fallen back asleep when she felt as well as heard him speak. "Seriously, Sam, last night was amazing. Maybe it was the whole abstinence thing like you say, but it was more than that. I'm not very good with words," he fumbled. "But do you know what I mean?"

Sam indeed knew what he was trying to say, and had no better words herself for what he was trying to express. She'd always felt they'd be good together, but she had no idea _how_ good. It seemed hokey, but the term _completing_ someone had always seemed to be the realm of fiction to her. Maybe it was the result of too many romance novels, but she really _had_ felt a connection to Jack, and it suffused her being. She couldn't remember feeling this content with another person.

Sam draped her arm across Jack's stomach, gently squeezing his waist. "I do know what you mean." They lay quietly for a few moments when Sam felt a hand creeping between her thighs.

Jack was leaning over her, smiling wolfishly. "Miss me?"

XXXXXX

As it turned out, Sam did remember how he liked his eggs, and was greeted upon waking with a plate of steaming over-medium. Sitting up on the futon, Jack winced at the pain in his lower back.

"Much as this reminds me of my care-free college days," he said, balancing his plate to keep eggs off the sheets, "we have to do something about getting you a real bed."

"There's nothing wrong with that bed, if you're in it by yourself," Sam said, munching on a piece of toast.

"I was kind of hoping it _wasn't_ going to be a single sleeper," he said, sampling his breakfast. Jack knew the furniture had come with the efficiency, due to the transient status of the usual occupants. It was a strange way to judge Sam's seriousness about putting down some roots, but Jack felt if she was willing to own furniture, it would signify her intention to stay. When she didn't answer, he asked if there was any extra toast.

"What do I do with the futon?" she asked at length.

"Put it in storage?"

"That seems like a lot of trouble for a cheap daybed."

"Give it back to the landlord?" She was still playing with her toast in the remainder of her egg yolk when he tried again. "Or, you could give up this place." Sam looked up then, and he knew she understood the underlying implication, but he stated it anyway. "You could move in with me. I have a bed."

"What about Charlie?"

"What about him?"

Sam was doing her best not to look at him. "Well, don't you think you should talk to him about it?"

"He's my kid. He'll do what I tell him."

"Jack, come on."

"Okay, you're right," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It does affect him so you're right. He does have a say in the matter. But I know what his answer is going to be. He loves you, Sam! As much as. . . well, he loves you!" Jack wasn't sure why he couldn't tell her he loved her. Maybe it was because it was too soon. He didn't want to confess his feelings after one night. It seemed trite, somehow, and what he felt was anything but common.

"Don't you think _we_ should talk about it? Doesn't this seem like things are moving too fast to you?" He wanted to tell her it had felt agonizingly slow on his end. That if he'd had his way she'd have been living with them for weeks now. But she was right. He'd never had any patience and this situation only served to prove that. He couldn't explain it, but he almost felt an urgency at getting her under his roof. That until she was there, she was vulnerable. It was ridiculous and he knew it. Besides, who was more capable of taking care of herself than the woman who'd obviously had some kind of self-defense training in her past?

"I guess by conventional terms it's fast. That doesn't change the way I feel." Jack climbed off the bed, placing his dish on the table. He pulled Sam up off her chair and made her face him, tipping her chin up so she was gazing into his eyes. "Promise me you'll at least think about it."

He watched her swallow, licking her lips and staring at his mouth. "I'll think about it," she whispered, and then kissed him, edging him back towards the bed.

**A/N**-Okay, I know chapter 10 raised a lot of questions, so I'm going to post chapter 12 today as well. Thank you all for your continued interest!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**12**

Colonel Jackson stood at the end of the conference table, fiddling with a powerpoint program that suddenly appeared on the screen behind him. His team was assembled, casting glances at one another trying to see if anyone knew what the impromptu meeting was about.

"We're just waiting for the General," Daniel told them, hoping to settle his team down a bit. Looking around the table, Daniel couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Initially he'd had his doubts about the group General George Hammond had put together. Charlie Kawalsky was an excellent soldier, but he screwed around far more than he was serious. Not that it was a bad thing-he often diffused tense situations before they got out of hand-but he also had a tendency to egg Louis Ferretti on as well. Daniel suspected Ferretti wouldn't be nearly so cocky if Kawalsky didn't get him going.

Initially, it had been the three of them. The Army wanted their best on a front-line contact team, and SG-1 was that team. Special Forces trained, the three men had several successful covert missions under their belts, and knew how to handle themselves in unusual situations.

Unusual was the order of the day at Area 51. From the time the Stargate and it's controlling device had inadvertently been discovered in the sands outside Saqqara, the Army had taken control and placed the ring into it's repository for the alien and the bizarre.

It didn't take the so-called experts long to figure out the symbols on the ring matched those of the second device, leading to the conclusion the two worked in concert. But it had taken Egyptologist Catherine Langford to realize the symbols were more than just pictographs. It turned out to be an obscure dialect that had taken months to decipher. Once they could "read" what they were now calling the "Stargate," and the tablet of cartouches they'd also unearthed, a trial run had been conducted. The newly formed SG-1 went through to another planet, laying the groundwork for the Stargate Coalition. It was a multi-branch military effort at Groom Lake, under the oversight of the Army.

When the SGC realized there were Humans on many of the planets, Xenobiologist Janet Fraiser was added to Daniel's team. While not technically aliens, the Humans had developed on extra-terrestrial worlds. Someone who could understood the biological differences between the people of Earth and people who had evolved off-world was deemed a necessary addition.

Initially, Daniel had opposed Janet's appointment to SG-1. It wasn't because she was a woman-he'd worked with several women throughout his career-it was her unfamiliarity with field. Her test scores were exemplary, but simulations weren't live action. However, it hadn't taken Janet long to reverse his opinion, and now she was on an equal footing with the rest of her team mates.

Daniel's musings were interrupted by the arrival of the general. "I apologize for the delay, everyone. Vice-President Kinsey can be a bit demanding." A titter of laughter circled the room at their leader's understatement. The general cleared his throat. "Proceed, Colonel."

"Thank you, General. In your folders is a copy of the reports from the incident on November fifth, 2003. If you recall, that was the day there was an extremely powerful electro-magnetic pulse that knocked out the power connectors on the 'gate as well as all electrical devices within the 'gateroom." Daniel saw heads bobbing around the table.

"This footage," he said, pointing to the frozen image on the screen behind him, "Was taken that same day by a security camera located outside the 'gateroom." Daniel pushed "play," starting the clip. SG-1 watched in silence as minutes of empty hallway scrolled across the screen.

"I assume there's a point to this?" the general asked.

"Yes, sir. It's almost. . . . There!" he said, slowing the image down. Frames clicked by second-by-second showing a woman emerging from the 'gateroom, glancing up at the camera, then running down the hallway.

Janet sat up straighter. "That's impossible! Other than an occasional security sweep, no one had been near the 'gateroom for weeks!"

"And you need a security card to enter," Kawalsky added. "There's no record of anyone having entered the 'gateroom on the day's log."

Ferretti was paging through the reports in front of him. "Looks like the last time someone accessed the door was the day before." He glanced up at his team mates. "Could someone have been hiding from a day or two before?"

"I don't know how," Janet said. "Other than the DHD, the 'gate and the ramp, there's nothing else in the room. There's no place someone could hide. If there was someone there, even a guard who was half asleep would have seen them."

"Colonel, run the clip again," the general instructed. Daniel played it once more, this time in slow motion, stopping on the frame where the woman looked up at the camera.

"Sir, I believe the woman in the picture is. . ."

"_Louise?_" The general gasped. "But how. . . .? Colonel Jackson! How in the _hell_ did you get footage of my dead wife?"

XXXXXX

General Jacob Carter sat staring at the image frozen on the projection screen. It wasn't possible! He'd held his wife as she'd died in his arms! He _knew_ she was dead! A victim of the same accident that had taken the lives of his two children.

Jacob had spent months in and out of hospitals and psych wards following the greatest tragedy of his life. Even his extremely colorful military career had paled in comparison. When he'd finally been cleared to return to duty, Jacob was a changed man. With nothing and no one to live for, he allowed the Army to erase him from public record, placing his death among his family's. Jacob Carter's continued existence was known only to the upper echelon of the military.

Despite taking every suicide mission offered, Jacob had been unable to join his family in death. Men with more to live for than himself perished while he somehow managed to survive. But when he was offered the position of leading the SGC from his retiring friend George Hammond, he found something to live for. His daughter Samantha had been obsessed with going into space. She would never achieve her goal, but maybe if he was involved with the Stargate Program, someone else's child could make it to the stars. His dedication to the program had turned his life around.

"Um, sir?" Daniel said, gazing at his team mates for support. "The woman in the footage isn't your wife. I think she's your. . .daughter, Samantha."

Rubbing his forehead, trying to dispel the sudden tension headache, Jacob wearily reported, "My daughter died in a car accident twenty-some years ago. I was there. There was no doubt."

"It could be your daughter," Daniel persisted, "But not your daughter from . . .here."

"Colonel?"

"Do you remember the mission to P3R-233?" Before Jacob could answer, Daniel rushed on. "It was the planet with the quantum mirror that sent me to a parallel universe."

"Yeah, and he's always telling _me_ not to touch stuff," Kawalsky quipped in an aside to Ferretti.

"Gentlemen," Jacob reprimanded, switching his gaze back to Daniel. "I do remember that mission. It's still rather controversial, and I don't see what that has to do with. . ."

"Forgive me, General, but it has everything to do with this incident. In that reality, that woman," he said, turning around to point at the screen, "Samantha Carter, was instrumental in saving their world. They were battling the Replicators as we are, which is how I knew what they were when we first encountered them. I witnessed them attacking the SGC of that universe."

Before Jacob could interject, Daniel was leaning forward, hands flat on the conference table. "She built a weapon, some kind of disrupter that dissolved the cohesion of the blocks. It stopped the invasion of the Replicators in their world."

"_Their_ world," Jacob reminded him. "It doesn't mean the same thing is going to happen here. Isn't that what you told me, Colonel? That the definition of an alternate universe was they chose one path and we another?"

Daniel closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. "Yes, that's one interpretation," Daniel rushed on. "But the similarities out-weigh the differences. There were more things like our world than not. Don't you see? The big difference in their reality was they had Dr. Samantha Carter, and as you've pointed out, we don't."

"We do now," Ferretti said, looking at no one in particular.

Jacob watched as Jackson paced at the end of the table. "Sir, I know you're frustrated by the lack of concern Washington seems to have over the Replicator situation. Their answer to the coming threat was to simply shut down the Stargate. You know as well a I do sticking our heads in the sand isn't going to help us when the Replicators come. And they _will_ be coming. Not tomorrow, perhaps, but long before we're ready. Even if we can find this needle in a haystack," he said, nodding towards the stilled image of Samantha Carter on the screen.

Jacob was silent as he processed Daniel's argument. Jackson was right about one thing. He was so goddamn tired of all the red-tape and roadblocks the Joint Chiefs had thrown into the SGC's path. Spearheaded by the most uncooperative asshole he'd had the displeasure of having to work with. He'd never known a time when Kinsey hadn't abused his power and this was no exception.

All the heads of SG-1 were turned in his direction, waiting for him to say something. He understood his choice. He could follow his orders, wait for instruction from his superiors, or he could do what was necessary to save the planet. Finding a solution to the menace bearing down on them. Whether or not this facsimile of his daughter was the answer, he didn't know, but he had to give his people the chance to find out.

Jacob gathered his papers and stood. "Do what you need to find her."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N—I was having some difficulties in responding to reviews, so if I missed you, I apologize—it wasn't for lack of trying. Thanks so much for reading! Also, an early posting as I have errands to run later today.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

13

Jack stood in his kitchen making a sandwich, distracted when he heard objects being moved around on the hall table.

"Charlie?"

"Dad, where are the keys to the truck?"

"In my pocket." Jack continued fixing his snack. "I want to talk to you about something."

Jack could hear Charlie's sigh a room away. "Dad! I'm already late to pick up Allison! Can't this wait?"

"Not really, no," he said around a mouthful of sandwich. He chewed and swallowed. "I think you should call Allison and let her know you're going to be late."

"But Dad!"

"You keep telling me you want to be treated like an adult. I'm trying to do that by taking your feelings into consideration and talk to you before I just go ahead."

Charlie stuck his head into the kitchen, looking worried. "Is everything okay?"

Jack felt a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah. It's great even. Go on. Call Allison. I'm sure she'll understand when you tell her later." Without another word Charlie walked into the living room, dialing Allison's number as he went. Jack could hear bits and pieces of his son's conversation as he tried to placate his girlfriend.

"I don't know what he wants! I told you! I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?" Jack could see Charlie from the kitchen, pacing in circles. "Yeah. Me too," he said looking up, red-faced at the sight of his father. Jack had to stifle a chuckle. Young love never changed.

"So what's this about?" Charlie asked, helping himself to a handful of chips. Jack wasn't sure where to start.

"You know Sam and I have been seeing a lot of each other lately."

Charlie snorted. "That's the understatement of the year. You guys are practically joined at the hip." His son continued to stare at him, waiting for some new revelation.

"Well, yes, we have been, I guess." Jack abandoned his sandwich and began to pace the small kitchen. "And we're thinking about making it more. . .permanent."

"You guys are getting married?"

"Not quite that permanent," Jack said, concentrating on clearing his plate into the trash. "I've asked her to move in. But I wanted to talk to you about it first. This affects you, too."

"So you're saying if I say 'no' you guys won't live together?" Jack thought about it for a moment. He wasn't going to let his son dictate his life, but he'd probably respect Charlie's wishes if he had a good reason for them.

"Not necessarily. I'd want to hear your objections." Now it was Charlie's turn to pace. A frown creased his brow as he absently helped himself to more chips. Jack watched him, wondering what his concerns were. At length, Charlie looked up at him.

"It's not that I don't like Sam," he began. "It's just that. . .well, it's just been us for so long. . . ."

"I know. Believe me, I've thought of that. I don't want to give this up either." Jack looked up and met his son's gaze. "I don't think having Sam here has to change our time together."

"She's here practically all the time anyway," Charlie teased. "It would save you from having to drive her home."

Jack started to smile. "Does this mean. . . .?"

"Well, if you don't have to take her home, that means you won't need the truck so much," he grinned.

"Oh, so what this is _really_ about is your access to the truck, not quality time with your father."

"There _is_ a matter of priorities, Dad." Jack shook his head and grabbed his son, pulling him into a rough hug. Charlie allowed the embrace for a few moments before stepping back.

"There's not going to be all kinds of girl crap all over the house, is there? Pink curtains? Flowery wall paper?"

Jack's laugh was explosive. "I think we have to worry there'll be too much camouflage. She did say something about painting the kitchen yellow, though."

"Yellow," Charlie said, gazing around the kitchen, then smiling. "I can live with that. When's she moving in?"

"As soon as I can get her here."

Charlie picked up an apple, tossing it from hand-to-hand. "Seriously, Dad. If I really had objected, what would you have done?"

Jack stared blankly out into the living room. "I'm not sure."

Charlie's voice softened. "You really love her, don't you?"

Turning his full attention on his son, Jack confessed, "Yeah. I do. I loved your mom. Don't think for a minute I've forgotten her," he quickly added. "But she's gone. And Sam is the best thing that's happened to me in a long time." Charlie was nodding his head in agreement. This time he was the one to initiate the hug.

"To both of us," he affirmed.

**A/N**—since this one is so short, stay tuned for chapter 14 shortly.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**14**

Vice-President Robert Kinsey looked up as the Army Lieutenant Colonel entered his office. He made no attempt to stand and welcome him into his space.

Robert left the man at attention for a few moments before offering him a seat. "At ease, Colonel," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "It's Samuels, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," There was a certain smugness about the man that grated on Kinsey's nerves. From what he'd learned, Samuels was the man who could carry out his directives efficiently and discretely. He didn't have to like him.

Robert slipped on a pair of reading glasses, opening the file before him. "Colonel, it says here until recently you were attached to the Stargate Coalition as General Hammond's Executive Officer." He pulled off the glasses, regarding the man.

"Yes, sir, that's true."

"Mind telling me why you're no longer stationed there?"

Samuels shifted in his seat, tugging on his collar. "General Carter and I don't seem to have the same. . .rapport I enjoyed with General Hammond. I asked to be reassigned to the Pentagon, and due to my exemplary record, my request was granted." Robert wasn't privy to the circumstances, but he had no doubt it was at Jacob Carter'srequest Samuels had been removed from the SGC.

"So it was a personal issue, not that you didn't agree with the SGC's mission," he stated.

Samuel's eyes darted back and forth. "I believe there should be some oversight over the device," he stated diplomatically.

"That's not what I asked you, Colonel." Again Samuels shifted in his seat as he worked on formulating an answer.

"May I speak freely, Mr. Vice-President? Off the record?" Kinsey nodded. "Sir, I believe the SGC, SG-1 in particular, are playing with fire. The Stargate is an accident waiting to happen. It has been ever since the first mission. I think it's only been by the grace of God we haven't met up with an aggressive alien force before now. I think suspending 'gate travel has been the wisest decision you and the President have made."

Robert rubbed a coin between his thumb and index finger, staring at man sitting ram-rod straight across from him, his dress uniform impeccable. "So your disapproval of the program isn't just the leadership of the facility."

"Sir, I believe the only way to assure this country's safety-the world's safety-is to bury the 'gate, some place where it'll never be found again." Kinsey considered the man across from him. He sounded sincere. He _acted_ sincere, but it could all be faked. Perhaps the Lieutenant Colonel was merely telling him what he thought he wanted to hear in order to ingratiate himself.

_"_Your _friends_ at the SGC think otherwise," he said, sliding a folder across his desk. Samuels flipped open the file, quickly scanning the contents. After a few minutes he looked up.

"An _alternate universe?_ Surely they're grasping at straws if this is the explanation they've given for wanting to re-open the Stargate!"

"Actually, that doesn't seem to be their priority at the moment. Read on."

Samuels resumed his perusal of the report, pulling a photo out of the stack of papers. "This is her?" Kinsey nodded. "And their rationale is that she saved this other 'universe' so she should be able to do the same here?"

Robert crossed his legs, leaning back into his chair. "Apparently. It says there the Samantha Carter Colonel Jackson met on his theoretical journey to another reality built a weapon capable of destroying the Replicators. It's the SGC's contention she could do the same in this universe given the opportunity."

Samuels whistled. "That's a pretty big 'if', sir.

"Which is why I want you to apprehend her before SG-1 does.

Samuels' head jerked up. "Sir?"

"I need to know what she knows, what her abilities are, and most importantly, where her loyalties lie. Oh, I'll turn her over to them, providing I get satisfactory answers. I'm just not convinced these 'Replicators' represent the significant threat the SGC would have us believe. That being said, I think this Samantha Carter is a much greater threat as a security risk." Robert stood and walked around his desk, signaling the interview had reached it's end.

"I want you to bring her in, Samuels. No rough stuff, but enough to scare her. Shake her up a bit. Under no circumstances is she to learn of this office's involvement. This will be strictly a military matter, is that clear?"

Bert Samuels rose to his feet. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

"Oh, and when you submit your report, make sure it goes to Agent Cross."

"The head of the NID?"

Robert narrowed his eyes on the colonel. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, sir!" Samuels quickly answered. "I just thought since you were trying to keep this within the bounds of the military. . ."

"The NID may ultimately a civilian organization, Colonel, but they're closely allied with the military as well. They're the perfect liaison between this office and the Army. I assure you, our goals are one in the same."

Samuels acquiesced. "Of course, sir."

Robert handed him a sheet of paper. "This is the last known home address for Ms. Carter. She seems to have moved recently, but she's still employed at this address," he said, pointing to the last line on the paper. "Bear in mind, if we have this information, the SGC does as well."

Samuels nodded. "Consider it done, Mr. Vice-President."


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer in chapter 1

15

Sam looked down the row of booths in her section, smiling when she realized Charlie and Allison occupied the one second from the end. She didn't bother with her coffee pot, but grabbed a couple of waters with the menus.

"A little early for school to be out, isn't it?" she asked, sliding a glass before each of them. They were sitting on the same side of the booth, Allison practically in Charlie's lap.

"We have last period free for study hall," Allison piped up, taking the menu Sam offered.

"Hmm." Sam said, "You're right, this _does_ look a lot like the library. I can see how you'd get confused."

"See?" Charlie said, turning to his girlfriend. "I told you she's been spending too much time with my dad."

Allison nudged Charlie's shoulder. "Don't listen to him, Sam. You're exactly what they needed." Sam grinned at the compliment. She liked Allison. Physically, she reminded Sam a bit of herself at that age. Shoulder length straight blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin. Allison seemed to blush as easily as Sam still did.

"Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow?"

"We're planning on it, right Charlie?"

"I don't know what the big deal is," he grumbled, slouching in his seat. "Dad's just gonna throw some burgers on the grill and grill us."

"Sam won't let him, will you, Sam?"

She grinned again at the kids. "I'll try to keep him under control, but you know how he is. I'll be back to take your order." She started walking back to the counter, shaking her head. If she'd ever had any doubts about Charlie being a chip off the ol' block, living with the two men had certainly cleared them. Beyond the physical resemblance, Charlie's stubbornness was rivaled only by Jack's.

Stopping to take another order, Sam looked up when she caught the flash of olive green. It was two officers in dress uniform checking out the interior of the dinner. There were several military bases in the area so It wasn't that unusual of a sight. She was about to direct the two men to have a seat when they removed their hats. The taller, younger of the two was unfamiliar, but she knew the man with the receding hairline.

"Oh, my god," she mumbled under her breath. There was no way she could make it out of the restaurant without them seeing her, either through the kitchen or the front door.

"Miss? We're ready to order," an elderly woman said sharply.

"Of course," she said pasting on a smile, keeping one eye on the officers. "What can I get you?" Sam was busy writing the explicit instructions the woman gave for both her and her husband, while trying to hear what the servicemen were asking Jill. She noticed her co-worker pointing in her direction, and felt her stomach drop.

She'd grown lax. It had been nearly eleven months since she'd shown up in this universe, and when no one had shown up to question her identity, she'd stopped looking around every corner. She'd let her guard down too soon.

"And make sure there's no butter!" her customer admonished.

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam answered automatically. Underneath the couple's order, Sam scribbled a note:

_Call Jack 303-989-4421 _

_Lt. Col. Samuels has me._

As she approached the men, she tried not to react to seeing Samuels. The Samantha Carter of this universe wouldn't have met him, and she wouldn't be nervous if someone from the military was standing in the doorway.

"Take a seat anywhere you like," she smiled.

"Samantha Carter?" The unfamiliar of the two asked.

"Yes," she confirmed, looking from one to the other. "Was there something. . ."

"If you'll come with us, please," he said.

Sam gave out a nervous laugh. "I'm in the middle of work here. If you'll tell me what this is about. . ."

Samuels stepped closer and lowered his voice. "You'll come quietly with us now or we'll make sure your young friends there," he nodded at Charlie and Allison, "join us. I don't think their parents will think too highly of that, do you?"

Sam gulped, giving him a slight nod. "Just let me put this in." She started to head for the window where she hung her tickets when Samuels grabbed her hand, none to gently.

"That won't be necessary. I'm sure your friend can finish up for you." He took the green pad from her hand, tearing off the top sheet to place it on the counter. Sam felt herself pale as he read the note underneath.

Samuels eyes narrowed as he tore the next sheet off, stuffing it in his pocket. "I see you know me. I wish I could say the same." His voice hardened. "Let's go." Sam took a few extra seconds removing her apron, hoping Charlie would look up from his girlfriend long enough to notice the Army officer with his hand on her elbow. Luck wasn't on her side, however, as Charlie's attention was riveted on Allison. She knew she should be concerned about where Samuels and his goon were taking her, but all she could think about was Jack and how he was going to go ballistic when he discovered her missing. If only she could have gotten some word to him. . . .

"Where are you taking me?"

Samuels made a tsking noise. "You don't really expect me to answer that, do you? Quit stalling and lets go," he said, tugging on her arm. Jill looked up with a questioning glance.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Sam said, hoping it wasn't going to be long. With a man on each arm, they hustled her outside and into a van. It looked like a vehicle used to transport prisoners, and she wondered if she was considered one. They helped her up, settling her on the right hand bench, where the man she didn't recognize snapped a handcuff on her.

"This really isn't necessary," Sam said, struggling against the restraint. "I came with you willingly."

"Yes, but I'm not so sure you'll remain that way," Samuels said, withdrawing a syringe from his pocket.

Sam felt her eyes grow large, unconsciously backing away from him. "Now that _really_ isn't necessary. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"No, you're not," Samuels confirmed, depressing the plunger causing a thin stream of liquid to shoot out the end of the needle. "Give me your arm, Samantha." Sam struggled against his hold. There was no way in hell she was going to co-operate with being drugged!

"That's 'Ms. Carter' to you," she answered through clenched teeth as she pulled her arm back as far as she could. She wasn't going to let him know she'd been trained to resist questioning, or torture for that matter. But if she was drugged, she wasn't sure any amount of conditioning would help her. She tried to remember what Colonel O'Neill had taught her about being evasive when interrogated. _Don't give away the farm, Carter, but a bit of truth mixed in with the lies will confuse them._ God, she missed him, missed all of them. There wasn't going to be any SG-1 calvary riding over the hill in the nick of time to save her. Even if there _was_ an SG-1 here, they didn't know her, or have any idea of her existence. She was _so_ screwed.

"Winters! Give me a hand here!" The taller man stepped up into the van grabbing her legs as she tried to kick Samuels. "You're only going to hurt yourself by struggling," he said, swiping the inside of her elbow with an alcohol swab. "Wouldn't want you to get an infection now, would we?"

"Fuck you!" Sam spat, continuing to fight against the hold on her arm and legs.

"Language, Ms. Carter!" he sneered as the needle pierced her skin.

"I don't know who you think I am, but you've got the wrong person. Unless you're here because of my subversive actions in the Foodservice Workers Revolt."

"Cute. I'm sure I don't have to explain why we picked you up."

"Um, actually, you do. I'm sure it's against several laws to pick up civilians, restrain and drug them." To make her point, Sam tugged on the hand cuffs once more.

Samuels stood, pushing his face into hers, forcing her to inhale his less-than-fresh breath. "Have a nice nap, Ms. Carter." He moved to the front of the van where Winters was sitting in the driver's seat. She could already feel the pull of the drug and tried to fight it, but it was near the end of her shift. She had no reserves with which to fight the fog converging on her mind. The last thought she had was of Jack. He was going to kill her for not calling. . . .

XXXXXX

Jack pulled off his safety goggles as his son and girlfriend burst into his lab. "Hey, Kids. What's up?"

"Dad!"

"Mr. O'Neill!" they both spoke at once.

"Slow down! One at a time! Charlie what's the. . ."

"They took her, Dad!"

Jack's brow furrowed in confusion. "Took who?"

"Sam, Mr. O'Neill!"

Jack felt a nearly overwhelming sense of nausea. "Who took her?" he barked, stripping off his rubber gloves as he came around the bench.

"Some Army guys," Charlie gulped, trying to catch his breath.

"'Army guys?' That's all you got?" Charlie looked even more scared than when he and Allison blew into the room. He had to calm down; shouting at the kids wasn't going to do anyone any good. "I'm sorry," Jack managed, wishing the blood would stop pounding in his ears. "What else did you see?"

"Not much," Allison added. "Charlie and I were in the diner, waiting for Sam to come take our order, and when she didn't show up, I looked out the window and saw two guys in Army uniforms pushing her into a van." Her eyes were filled with tears, some of which were escaping down her cheeks, her bottom lip quivering.

"You did the right thing by coming here," Jack soothed, wrapping his arm around Allison's shoulders, giving her a quick hug. He released her and Allison moved to Charlie's side, practically cleaved to him.

"Did you tell anyone at the diner what you saw? Did you get a license plate?"

Charlie's uncertainty was back. "I said something to Jill, probably cried something like, 'they're taking her!', but that was it. They took off pretty quick. I'm sorry, Dad but I didn't think to get a license plate number."

Jack reached over and ruffled his son's hair. "It's okay, Kiddo. We'll find her. What color was the van?"

Charlie and Allison exchanged glances. "Dark, right, Charlie? Black or dark blue or something?"

"Yeah. I'd say black. I tried Sam's cell, but it was in her purse. I could hear it ringing in the back room."

Jack ran his hands through his short hair, locking his fingers on the top of his head. "We need to call the cops. I should have thought of it sooner," he mumbled to himself as he reached for his phone dialing 911.

XXXXXX

Sam's vision swam as she barely opened her eyes. She had the mother of all headaches, and everything seemed way too bright.

She heard a female voice off to her left. "I think she's coming around." _A woman?_ She thought. _They switched personnel? Is Samuels still here? _Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard him stand and realized he was walking toward her.

"It's about time." That pompous voice made her skin crawl.

"If she'd responded to the first dose, she probably wouldn't have been out so long," Sam heard the woman say. She'd hoped the naquadah in her system would dilute the drug's effects, allowing her to be somewhat cognizant of where they were taking her. Apparently it had, but they'd noticed. Sam didn't remember the second dose, so she must have been pretty groggy when they'd given it to her.

"Now there's a good girl," Samuels said, roughly pulling her upright. Sam blinked against the harsh light, running her tongue around her dry mouth.

"Where. . . ." she croaked, trying to swallow against the dryness. Samuels nodded at the woman who handed her a glass of tepid water. It tasted metallic, but she didn't care. It was wet. "Thank you," she managed, glancing up at the woman, hoping with her she might find a modicum of sympathy. She was wrong. If her severe posture and hairstyle were anything to go by, this woman didn't have an ounce of softness to her. Her brown hair was pulled so tight, it tugged the corners of her eyes towards her ears, making her look almost Asian. She appeared to be more muscular than Samuels, but that probably wouldn't be difficult, Sam reasoned.

"Where am I?" Sam tried again.

"I don't think you really expect me to answer that after all the trouble we went to bringing you here."

"It doesn't hurt to ask," she answered flippantly. Samuels walked back around the metal table which was the only furniture in the room, save the chair and cot she'd woken up on.

He took a seat, reaching for a manilla folder resting in front of him. "Lieutenant Meecham, please bring our guest a chair so she's more comfortable while we conduct our interview."

"Interview," Sam snorted. "You're very good at euphemisms, Samuels"

"That's the second time you've referred to me by name. How is it you know me?"

"Your reputation precedes you. Actually," she said, testing her legs by walking over to the table, "how could I miss it? It's on your uniform."

Samuels looked down at his right breast pocket. "So it is. But you recognized me before you read my nameplate."

"If you say so." Meecham carried in a chair, setting it down with a heavy "clank" that resounded throughout the room.

"Please, have a seat Ms. Carter," Samuels directed, opening the file. "We'd just like to clear up a few discrepancies. Apparently we have some conflicting information."

"Is this a 'service' you provide all Americans, or did I just win the lottery?"

Samuels mouth turned up in a grim parody of a smile. "_Legal_ citizens of the United States have nothing to worry about." He let her think about that as he took his time perusing the papers in the folder. From her vantage point, Sam couldn't read the type-written sheets, but she could see several, along with a photo and a disc of some kind.

Sam crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you implying I'm not?"

"I'm not sure you understand how this works," the Lieutenant Colonel said, folding his hands on top of her file. "I ask the questions, and you answer them, or you'll become a permanent guest of the U.S. government."

"Your threats don't scare me."

"Then you're not as smart as I've been told." Samuels leaned back in his chair, picking up the top sheet from his desk. "It says here Samantha Louise Carter died in 1982, a victim of a car accident, along with the rest of her family."

"Well then your information is wrong. In the first place, I'm obviously alive, and my middle name is Marie. So, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

"Then perhaps you can explain to me why there hasn't been any activity linked to your Social Security number until eleven months ago. You're going to tell me this waitressing job is the first employment you've had in. . ." he checked his paperwork, "twenty-two years?"

Sam actually had an excuse prepared in the eventuality she was picked-up. She'd expected the police to show up for identity theft, not the Army for threats of sedition. "I've been out of the country."

"Out of the country. . . ." he repeated.

"Yes. My whole family, actually. Except for my father, that is. It was actually the Army that suggested our deaths be faked, and moved us out of the country.

"And the service did this because. . . .?"

Sam stalled a moment by running her tongue over her lips. "My father was Special Ops, maybe he still is," she said hoping to God that Jacob Carter hadn't really been killed in the accident. It was her pet theory, that the Army had used the car crash to allow him to continue to work undercover.

Samuels made a note on the sheet in front of him. Again she couldn't make out the writing. "So, you and your mother and your brother have been living abroad all these years as a means of protecting you."

"That's right."

"And now you're back." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. My mother and brother are still out of the country."

"What prompted you to return? Surely not the promise of lucrative employment?"

Sam was getting tired of his maligning her occupation. "My boyfriend lives here and I wanted to be with him." Before he could ask the circumstances of their meeting, Sam volunteered, "We met when he was on vacation."

"Which was where, exactly?" Samuels leaned back in his chair, twisting a pen between his fingers, staring at her. "Cut the bullshit, Ms. Carter. Or should that be _Major_ Carter?"

Swallowing, Sam's mind raced, trying to school her features. "I'm sure I. . ."

"Oh, I know _here_ you're a civilian, but what about where you come from?"

"I wasn't part of the military where I lived," she said, wondering what angle he was going to attack from next. He seemed to be hinting at something having to do with the Stargate, but he didn't come right out with it.

The Lieutenant Colonel pulled a photo from the file. It was a still image of her looking up into the security camera outside the 'gate room at Area 51. "Wow," Sam breathed. She looks a lot like me, doesn't she? Is that why I'm here? Because I look like this woman?"

The smile Samuels gave her was feral. "No, you're here because you _are_ this woman. I don't know how you managed to get into a top secret facility, but being dead would help, wouldn't it? No record for twenty-two years, you wouldn't exist."

Sam remained silent. She didn't know what she could say, even if she chose to, with such damning evidence.

Leaning forward onto his forearms, linking his fingers, Samuels stared hard at her, waiting to catch any emotion she revealed. "What I don't understand is why you chose to resume your dead persona. Why not become someone else?"

Right about now, Sam was wondering the same thing. She could have hacked into the Social Security Administration's data base and given herself a new identification, but at the time she thought remaining "herself" would help her connect with her team mates if they'd made it to this reality. She probably could have changed her name and number once she'd realized her team hadn't followed her, but she didn't want to give up her identity. It was all she had left, and she stubbornly hung onto her one link to her home universe.

"No smart ass remarks, Major?"

"Why do you insist on calling me 'Major?' If you think I could get into this facility, which I don't even know where it is, don't you think I could steal a uniform?"

"I think the fact you made it into a restricted area, showing up on only one surveillance camera makes me realize you've had training. Regardless of how you came to that training, you're a threat to national security."

Sam barked out a laugh. "You've got to be kidding! I'm a waitress from Denver for crying out loud, who unfortunately bears a resemblance to some blurry black and white photo you have. Are you really going to hold me on _that?_"

"Oh, I've got plenty to hold you on, _Ms. Carter,_" he said, standing and gathering up the papers and file from his desk.

"What, that's it? You're not even going to give me a chance to make you understand how this is all a mistake?"

"I have what I need," he said pausing by the door, rapping his knuckles twice on the metal. Sam's eyes darted around the room. If it was just Samuels, she could probably take him. It was obvious it had been some time since he'd been in the field. Meecham, however, was a different story. While they were probably evenly matched physically, she couldn't take on both of them. Meecham was eyeing her now, expecting her to make a move as Sam stood. Her hands were gripping the back of the chair, and she released them slowly, making a show of the action.

Samuels exited the room, turning back to the lieutenant. "Take her to the cell block." He took a few steps into the corridor, then craned his head backwards once more. "We'll be speaking again soon. Enjoy your stay."

**A/N**-I'm too impatient. Chapter 16 will be up shortly.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**16**

The police had come and taken his statement. Made Charlie and Allison go over and over what they'd seen until they weren't sure what they really _had_ seen. An APB had been put out. Other law agencies had been notified. All that could be done either had been or it was in the process. It wasn't good enough.

Jack paced his living room, around the sofa, circling the coffee table and back again. His palms were becoming irritated from the continual rubbing of his hands over his five o'clock shadow. There had to be something more he could do. He _needed_ something more to do. He'd sent Charlie to take Allison home because he knew his behavior was scaring both kids, but he couldn't sit down. Couldn't relax. Someone had taken her for no apparent reason. If this had been about her using someone's Social Security number they would have taken her to a police station. Charged her with identity theft and released her, possibly on bail. Why the Army? And why the hell were they in uniform instead of plain clothes? Did they hope the show of military might would intimidate people, keeping away any would-be saviors? It just didn't add up.

On his umpteenth circuit of his living room, Jack had a revelation. Kawalsky! Okay, it was a long shot, but he was the only one Jack knew who was in the Army. If nothing else, he might know who to talk to to get information about Sam.

Digging his cell phone out of his jeans, he accessed Kawalski's number. As expected, he was instantly routed to the voice mail.

"Charlie!" he shouted into the phone. "Someone's taken Sam! I have to talk to you! Call me as soon as you get this!" Jack disconnected, realizing he hadn't explained who "Sam" was. Maybe the mystery would prompt his friend to return his frantic call.

Jack continued to pace, torn between being glad his son was with his girlfriend, and wishing he was there to lend him some moral support. It took nearly a half an hour for Jack's phone to ring.

"Kawalsky! Thank god!"

_"Jack! What's wrong? I'm sorry I didn't get the call earlier. Big stuff going on among the stars, ya know!"_

Rather than being calmed by Kawalsky's joking, the humor seemed to make Jack angrier. "You know the woman I've been seeing?"

_"It's that blonde who picked you up in the grocery store, right?"_

Jack didn't take the time to correct him. "She works at a diner here, and earlier today a couple of Army guys came and took her from work. Just took her! Charlie and his girlfriend happened to be in the restaurant at the time, so they saw them hustle her into some non-discript black van. She's just a waitress for cryin' out loud! Why would they take her?"

_"Look, Jack, just because I wear olive green, doesn't mean I've got a line on everything the Army does. Hell, I couldn't even tell you what's going on at our base most of the time."_

"I know!" Jack took a calming breath. "I know. It's just that I didn't know where to turn. I don't even have the faintest idea who to call to get some information!" Jack heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

_"You're sure there isn't something she could have done? It's not the Army's usual M.O. to pick people up like that."_

Jack had been over and over this in his mind, but still came up with nothing. "She's a waitress at some kitschy Fifties diner. At least she is right now."

_"Right now?"_

"Well, she says she used to be an astrophysicist."

_"And she's working as a waitress?"_

"Hey, times are tough." He didn't want to tell Kawalsky of the fantasy she clung to of coming from an alternate reality, or where she was using a dead woman's credentials to get by in the world.

_"If she is an astrophysicist, it could be why the Army is looking for her. She AWOL or something?"_

"She's had some problem with her Social Security number recently," he answered vaguely. Some discrepancies over records or something."

_"That would be a civil matter,"_ Kawalsky muttered. _ "No reason the Army would get involved."_

"You don't think I've figured that out? Look, Charlie, I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you."

_"Hey, if it was Marie I'd probably have killed someone by now. I don't know what I can do, but I'll see if I can get you some more information. Let me get a pen."_ There were sounds of Kawalsky moving objects around his desk, then his voice came back on the line. _ "Okay. What's her name?"_

"Carter, Samantha Carter." There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. "Charlie?"

It still was a moment before Jack heard a rather breathless, _"What was her name again?"_

"Samantha Carter! You know her or something?" It sounded as if Charlie's voice was striving for nonchalance, but wasn't quite achieving it, alerting Jack something was up.

_"Of course not! Um. . .it's my CO,"_ he stumbled. _"His name is Carter so it just kind of surprised me, that's all."_ Jack wasn't buying it. If Kawalsky wasn't coming clean with him, there had to be a reason.

_"I gotta go, Jack. As soon as I have something for you, I promise, I'll let you know." _Before he could utter another word, Jack's phone beeped with the end of the call.

XXXXXX

Kawalsky ended his call, pushing the phone in his pocket as he hurried down the corridor. Poking his head into a lab, he stopped only long enough to gather his team mate.

"Janet, I've got some news to tell the Colonel. Grab Ferretti and meet me in his office."

Knocking on the door frame, Kawalsky barged into his CO's office before Daniel could invite him to enter. "Sir, I've got some news, but I want to wait until the rest of the team gets here."

"You know how busy I am these days," Daniel said sarcastically, laying down his pen. He, more than any of them, had been struggling with their enforced down time.

"So, what's this about?" Ferretti asked, stepping into the room behind Janet. She didn't voice her curiosity, but it was clearly evident on her face.

"I just got off the phone with a friend of mine. He says his girlfriend was taken by a couple of Army guys in a black van."

Daniel picked up his pen again, looking as if he was getting ready to dismiss the group. "I'm sorry about your friend, Kawalsky, but what does that have to do with us?"

"His girlfriend is Samantha Carter." He waited for them to make the connection. Janet was the first to grasp the importance of his announcement.

"The same Samantha Carter we think is the woman in the surveillance footage?"

"I can't be sure, but how many Samantha Carters can there be? And who also claim to being an astrophysicist? "

"Well, actually, Ferretti found. . ."

"Colonel," Janet interrupted, "Don't you think some Army men picking her up at the same time we're looking for her is a bit coincidental?"

Daniel laid his pen down again, stood, and started to pace the close quarters of his office. "Did we ever come up with an address for her?"

Ferretti produced a note pad. "About an hour ago. I was cross-checking it before I brought it to your attention."

Daniel slid his glasses up his nose, reading the address scrawled across the yellow legal pad. "No home address. Is this her workplace?" he asked, looking up at Ferretti.

"Best we can do, sir. Looks like she was in an apartment up until a few weeks ago, but now there's no record of her. No utility bills, Internet, or cable."

"Hmmm." Daniel said, distractedly. "But she's still working at this. . ." he glanced at the pad again, "Welcome Back Diner?"

"Jack said she was a waitress at some theme diner," Kawalsky interjected. "It's got to be her!"

"We don't know that for a fact," Daniel pointed out. "All we've got right now is a report from your friend that his girlfriend is missing, apparently due to the Army's intervention. Was she living with him? Could that be why there's no paper trail since she left her last known address?"

"I don't know, Colonel. This is the first time I've spoken to him in several weeks."

"Try to get some more information. See if he can send you a picture. She could be 'our' Samantha Carter. In the mean time, I think this is something the General needs to know about."

XXXXXX

General George Hammond looked up from his reports to focus his attention on touching his blinking intercom switch.

"Yes, Grace?"

"_Sir, General Carter is on line one for you."_

George picked up the receiver, punching the glowing button. "Jacob! How are you?"

_"Not so great at the moment. You've seen my latest report? The one I faxed this morning?"_

Hammond picked up the sheets, gathering the most recent into a stack. "I was just looking at it. Sounds like Colonel Jackson is still clinging to his story about his trip to an alternate universe."

_"Did you get to the part where he claims a woman he met there has come through to our universe?"_

"Actually, that's where I was. He claims she's Samantha Carter? As in your daughter?" He tried to keep his voice even. George had been Jacob's only outside contact after the accident. The only person who knew he hadn't perished in the wreck with his family. In fact, it was how they'd met. It was no surprise the two had become fast friends. He also knew what the loss of his family had done to Jacob. The thought that this woman had appeared in the SGC had to be seriously shaking him up.

_"In a manner of speaking. Apparently she's been posing as,"_ he heard Jake swallow, _"Sam for the last ten months. We probably wouldn't even know she was here if that surveillance footage hadn't been recovered."_ Here Jacob paused and it sounded like he'd taken a drink of water.

_"If you've read Colonel Jackson's report, you've probably also seen he feels she's the key to us fighting and ultimately defeating the Replicators."_

"I read that, yes. Of course there's also the matter of security. Not only was she seen within the confines of a top secret installation, we have no idea what her agenda is."

Jacob's voice raised in volume and pitch. _ "So you're the one who authorized the detail that picked her up?"_

George was genuinely confused. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Jacob relayed the events as he knew them, concluding with the man who'd reported to Major Kawalsky his girlfriend had been taken. _"It all seems to fit together a little too nicely for it to be coincidence,"_ he finished.

Hammond leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. "I admit this woman should be considered a security risk, but I assure you I didn't authorize her detention, but I have a good idea who did."

"Kinsey," they said at the same moment. _ "If he can prove this woman was in the SGC for the purpose of espionage, it's just one more nail in the Stargate Program's coffin,"_ Jacob stated. _"He's already suspended 'gate travel. If he can make this stick, he'll shut us down for good. Then God help this planet."_

"Don't go packing your bags just yet, Jacob. I realize what's at stake. I had your job, remember?"

Jacob laughed, _"You want it back?"_

"Not on your life," Hammond answered without missing a beat. Suddenly serious, George scribbled a note on a piece of scrap paper as he spoke to the General. "I'll look into it and get back to you. You hang tight, Jacob. We'll find Jackson's secret weapon."

_"Thank you, sir,"_

"You call me that again and I'll call off the search," George chuckled. "I'll be in touch." He hung up the phone, picking up the note he'd just written. _Nail the bastard_ was the only reminder he needed.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**17**

Jack joined Charlie at the kitchen table, watching his son dig into a huge bowl of cereal. _Lucky Charms_, he thought. _If it weren't for Lucky Charms I'd have no luck at all . . . ._ Okay, he was seriously sleep deprived, he realized. Switching lyrics to a bad country song? He couldn't deny the cereal reminded him of Sam. hell, everything reminded him of Sam. Brushing his teeth, making coffee, lying in the now too-large bed. And most of all, the paint cans resting on the counter, bright yellow splotches on the lids.

"Jeeze, Dad. You look like hel. . .crap," Charlie said around a mouthful of cereal. "You get any sleep last night?"

Jack dug the heels of his hands into gritty eyes. "No. You?"

"Not a lot." The silence stretched between them. After a moment, Charlie spoke up. "Uncle Charlie will find her," he stated with certainty. He'd always idolized his namesake, and Kawalsky's failure simply wasn't an option for his son. Jack wished he could be so sure.

"Yeah," he agreed, for lack of anything else to say. Jack's hands encircled the milk carton, looking as if he were going to strangle the container. "You think we can put her picture on a milk carton or is she too old?"

"Dad. . . ."

"Right," he said releasing his grip. He should eat something, he knew, but the thought of food made him nauseous. The worst of this situation was how hauntingly familiar it was. _This is how it felt after Sara,_ he thought, and fought to remind himself this wasn't the same situation at all. There'd been no doubt Sara was gone. There was nothing to indicate Sam wasn't coming back to them. _What did it matter? _ his mind spoke to him, _Fear and loss tasted and felt the same regardless._

"You should eat something, Dad," Charlie admonished, concern in his brown eyes. Jack was about to make some quip about who was the parent in the room, but decided against it. Charlie was worried about him and it was belittling to be flippant about it.

With a sigh, Jack rose, taking a bowl from the cupboard, noticing it was half the size of his son's. Still, it seemed too large. Reaching for a spoon, he felt as if he was moving in slow motion. Like he was moving through water. He could see the surface, but just couldn't reach it.

Retaking his seat, Jack reached for the box of cereal, pouring a small amount into the Simpson's bowl Charlie had used as a child. Bart's head at the bottom was barely covered, but at least it was something, right? He portioned the milk and dug his spoon into the sugary shapes, scooping up a marshmallow comet, feeling his throat constrict.

_Comets. They'd talked about comets. Had it only been the night before last? _

They were lying in bed, Sam's head on his shoulder as she helped him support the oversized picture-laden book of Hubble space images. They talked about what objects he'd observed through his telescope, and how comets were one of his favorite phenomenon. For some reason, Sam had taken the comment as a license to give him a discourse on the physics of comets. He listened politely for as long as he could before gently shaking her shoulder, telling her not to suck all the fun out of it. Her mood had changed instantly, and he chastised himself for not letting her ramble. It was all she had, he realized, and he shouldn't have been so impatient with her.

He'd tried to apologize and pull her back, but she'd sat up, back to him, legs dangling over the side of the bed. She'd told him how O'Neill had often accused her of "sucking the fun" out of wondrous events and it was difficult to hear the familiar words coming from him. She explained it was nothing against him, but it always reminded her that she wasn't from _this_ "here." Which made him feel angry over her whole contention of alternate universes. Their moment of closeness had evaporated, and he cursed himself as she grabbed her robe, exiting the bedroom.

He'd found her on the sofa, paging through a magazine she wasn't looking at. Again he'd made a stab at apology, but she just gave him a sad smile, assuring him once more that it wasn't him. She'd tried to convince him it was natural they'd have periods of miscommunication in their new living arrangement, and to not take it personally, just as she was trying not to.

Jack stared at the garishly colored marshmallow floating in the milk, remembering he hadn't sent her off to work with an "I love you." What he wouldn't give to have the moment back.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

Jack cleared his throat and wiped the dampness from the corner of his eye. "Yeah. Uncle Charlie will find her," he answered with more conviction than he felt.

"You sent all those pictures," Charlie reminded. "I don't think he would have asked for them if he didn't think he had a chance of finding her."

Jack smiled weakly at his son. "You're right. Maybe studying deep space radar telemetry is bigger stuff than I thought." Charlie stood, taking his bowl to the sink and rinsing it out.

"I gotta go, Dad." Jack looked up at the clock, thinking Charlie was just going to make it to school before the bell rang. He himself had called in sick. There was no way he could concentrate on teaching with Sam missing. Jack felt Charlie's hand on his shoulder.

"You gonna be okay? 'Cause I could. . ."

"No way, Mister," Jack said with false joviality. "You're going to school. I promise I'll let you know the minute I hear anything." Jack watched Charlie, considered his options, and decided to seal the deal. "You can take the truck."

"Really? But what if you need it?"

"I'll manage. Get moving, Kiddo or you're going to be late." Charlie gave him one more worried look before grabbing his backpack and the keys Jack extended to him. Charlie really needed to be in school, Jack thought. He needed the distraction. If only he could find one that would work for him.

**A/N**-I forgot about Daylight Saving time, so I'm running late. I'll post chapter 18 this afternoon. Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**18**

Sam lay on the uncomfortable cot in her cell, staring up at the ceiling. She'd tried to sleep, but there was too much running around her mind. At least they'd given her something more appropriate to wear in the chilly confines of the cell block. Not that the BDUs were anything close to warm, but it beat her pink waitress outfit. The clothes' familiarity offered some small bit of comfort. She was sure that hadn't been Samuels' intent, but she took what she could get.

All she could think about was Jack and Charlie. How worried they had to be. If only there was some way to get them a message. While she couldn't say when she'd be back, she could at least assure them she was all right. Relatively speaking.

Turning her head to the sound of the outer door opening, Sam heard voices she couldn't quite catch. She was alone in the area that seemed to house ten cells, so the visitor was obviously for her. Standing, walking to the bars, Sam found her hopes dashed when Samuels entered the detention area.

"Oh. It's you."

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss me," he said, staring down his nose. He held up a sheaf of papers. "Apparently you have some friends in very high places."

Sam gripped the bars. "That's my release?" Even she couldn't believe orders for her discharge had been issued so quickly, if indeed they would come at all. Who knew she was in here? Wherever "here" was.

"The head of Homeworld Security himself authorized it." Sam could see he was watching her, waiting to see if she knew who he was talking about. In her world Homeworld Security was a newly created office. She knew General Hammond was on the short list for the position, but was that the case here? There were just enough discrepancies in this universe that the person occupying the post could be someone she didn't know. She took a chance.

"General Hammond? How is _Uncle_ George, anyway?" The shock on Samuels face confirmed her suspicions. "Maybe the next time you kidnap someone you'll check out how well connected they are before you take them." Sam curbed the urge to say more, knowing Samuels already had plans to check out how she knew Hammond. Had Samantha known him? Was this Hammond friends with Jacob? Until she knew otherwise, she was going on the assumption there was a family association.

Samuels produced a keycard, taking his time sliding it through the electronic lock. At the sound of the click, Sam slid the bars open, starting to push past him, wondering how soon she could get to a phone.

"Not so fast, Ms. Carter," he stated, waving the papers and holding up a pair of handcuffs. "You have to be processed out. And just because you're being released from this facility, doesn't mean you're free to go." Samuels snapped on the cuffs, which had some kind of electronic locking mechanism. The diode of the lock blinked brightly enough to reflect off the cement walls.

Sam looked down at the restraints. "What are you talking about? You still have no right to hold me!"

Samuels gestured her forward. "Apparently _Uncle_ George has other plans for you. He didn't set you free, just authorized your removal from this facility." Sam swallowed. _Not free to go? What use could they possibly have for her?_

"Well, at least I'm out of your hands," she said with more bravado than she felt. They continued in silence to the elevator. Turning around, Sam noticed there were twenty-eight buttons on the control panel. While it didn't look exactly the same as the lift in her SGC, it did set her to wondering. Were they beneath NORAD? Was this what the facility was being used for instead of housing the Stargate?

Sam had her confirmation when they reached level five and she saw the bank of elevators which should lead to NORAD and the surface. Expecting to enter the next set of lifts, Sam was surprised when she was guided to a cramped, stale office, staffed with enlisted personnel.

Samuels pushed her into a hard chair as he handed the sheaf of papers to the private in front of her. "She's got a ride waiting," he said, as if this was her pass to express check-out. The man/boy's features didn't change as he took the papers and began typing.

Sam looked around the airless room, grateful she'd never been assigned a clerical post. Where could they be taking her? A more secure facility? Surely a subterranean prison had to be the deepest, darkest hole they could toss her into. And yet, she was being released. By Hammond, no less. What the _hell_ was going on?

Wordlessly, the private handed the papers back to Samuels who now yanked her upright in the same rough manner. "Your ride's this way." Sam gave him an expression she hoped conveyed her less-than-amused state. This time they did enter the surface elevators and Sam felt herself relax a fraction. Samuels rode in silence, but she watched his jaw working, grinding teeth in an effort to control his anger and frustration. She wasn't sure where she was heading, but it was obvious Samuels wasn't happy about it. _All the more reason to be hopeful,_ she thought.

Once outside, Sam took a deep breath, squinting in the bright sunlight. Where the parking lot had been in her universe, a helipad occupied the space in this one. The chopper hadn't even powered down, making Sam realize this was the reason she'd been hustled out of the facility. Wherever she was headed, they were in a damn big hurry to get her there.

Samuels assisted her into the helicopter, touching her only as much as was necessary. Sam was just as glad to have minimal contact with the odious man, and held out her hands to have him remove her cuffs. The noise from the rotors precluded any conversation, and he shook his head, handing some kind metal chip to the guard accompanying the pilot. Apparently she was still considered a prisoner.

Half expecting to be drugged, or at least encased in a hood, Sam was pleasantly surprised to see the guard only signal her to fasten her seat belt. "Where are we going?" she shouted, but only received another head shake. She hoped this wasn't going to be a long flight, or they planned for a pit stop, because she really needed to use a bathroom.

XXXXXX

The intra-base phone on Jacob's desk rang twice before it was picked up.

_"They're bringing her in now, sir."_

"Um, good. They made good time." he struggled for what to add. "Have her escorted to the conference room and notify SG-1." Jacob's hands were sweating, and he stood to pace his office, feeling more nerves than he did going into battle. _This shouldn't be that hard_, he thought to himself. _You don't know this woman. She's not your daughter. You don't know_ what_ she is._ Running his hand over his face, Jacob realized it was more than his palms sweating, and he actually felt sick to his stomach. _Some war-tempered soldier_, he thought. He couldn't even face the prospect of meeting someone who resembled his wife.

The plan was to have Colonel Jackson meet her first, sound her out, see what she knew. When he felt the time was right, he'd introduce the rest of SG-1. After that, Jacob was supposed to join them and assess her himself, passing on any recommendations to Hammond. After that? He wasn't sure. He just had to get through the next few hours. God help him.

XXXXXX

Daniel sat in the vacant conference room, scanning the report Bert Samuels had submitted to the NID Agent Cross. He was quite sure the file hadn't been meant to be seen outside the Agency, but General Hammond ordered a copy be sent to the SGC. He'd never met the Lieutenant Colonel, but he knew the type: over-eager boot-licker who would sell his mother if it would get him ahead. He had no doubt the report had been embellished with Samantha's potential danger.

At the sound of the door opening Daniel got to his feet, wondering if she would recognize him. One guard entered first, followed by a blonde haired woman, and a second guard behind. She was still in handcuffs, causing the first words out of his mouth to be an order for her release. She looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Daniel? Oh, my God, Daniel!" She started to run forward causing the guards to step closer and block her from moving towards him.

"It's all right!" He barked. "And I told you to remove those cuffs!" The guard gave him a skeptical look, but produced the metal chip, inserting it into the lock on the handcuffs. As soon as she was free, the woman rushed ahead, embracing him.

"It's so good to see you! I can't believe your'e here!" Daniel returned the embrace rather awkwardly and she stepped back, appraising his appearance. "You're not him, are you?"

"Um, no, I don't think I am." All of the energy suddenly left her and she collapsed into one of the chairs parked around the table. Turning, she looked at him more closely.

"No, you're not, Colonel," she said, noting the pins on his collar. Daniel took a seat across from her, eyeing her just as closely, a grin breaking out on his face.

"You look different."

"Excuse me?"

"From the other Sam I met. She had longer hair, and glasses."

Sam blinked. "You've met other mes? I mean other Sam Carters?"

Daniel nodded, still staring at her, fascinated. This was a woman from another universe! "Well, just the one. And now you." He probably should be questioning her, he realized instead of comparing alternate reality notes. Samuels seemed to think she was a spy from _this_ universe not some hapless visitor from another. He was probably already revealing too much by his admissions.

"I'm sorry I'm staring, it's just I never imagined you'd be in the military. My Daniel is a civilian. An archaeologist."

Daniel felt his eyebrows raise over the rim of his glasses. "Really? I admit it's a hobby, but as a career? I can't imagine trying to make a living at it."

Sam grinned. "The Daniel I know could never imagine himself doing anything else." Daniel found himself wanting to hear all about this counterpart but had to curb his curiosity for the moment. It was his job to get a feel if this woman could be of help to them or if she was going to be a security risk. He decided to see if she "knew" any of the rest of his team.

The guards were trying to look as though they hadn't been paying attention to the conversation in the room, but from their expressions, they had. The incredulous looks they were giving the woman and each other spoke volumes. "Send in my team," he told them, "And then you can wait outside."

Daniel kept his eyes on Samantha as his team moved around the table, staring at her as intently as she was watching them.

"_Kawalsky_? You're alive here? And Ferretti! Janet? You have no idea how good it is to see all of you!" Daniel was sure it was taking all of Samantha Carter's willpower to remain seated and not embrace the members of his team. For their part, they were exchanging glances, wondering what to say to this woman who claimed to know them.

Charlie was the first to speak. "So, I take it I'm dead?" the quip managed to break the tension in the room and everyone relaxed a bit.

Daniel wasn't sure where to start. "Maybe you could tell us how you seem to know everyone."

Samantha's thoughts seemed to turn introspective for a moment, then she looked up at Daniel. "I met you on my first mission with SG-1, to Abydos. You were living there at the time."

"Abby. . . .?" Kawalsky started.

"Abydos, named for the city in Egypt. Or the city was named after the planet. Kind of a chicken-or-the-egg kind of thing," she laughed, but no one joined her. Swallowing, she sat up straighter, becoming more serious.

Daniel pushed his glasses up. "Actually, the name is Greek, from when the Ptolemy's ruled in. . ."

"He was living on another _planet_?" Ferretti cut in, and Daniel restrained a sigh. Why was it no one ever cared to learn the origins of what they were discussing?

"He asked to stay. He was married to a local woman."

"_Married_?" Janet questioned. "You're kidding, right? The Colonel is a notorious loner."

Daniel felt himself growing defensive. "I don't know that 'loner' is an apt description."

"Oh yeah?" Kawalsky smirked. "When was the last time you had a date?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Daniel tried to get the meeting back on track. "I'm sure there's more to your story, but for now, how do you know the rest of my team?"

"Major Kawalsky was part of my first trip through the 'gate, which was actually SG-1's first official mission, the second time we used the Stargate. Major Ferretti had also gone on the very first mission with Kawalsky, Colonel O'Neill and Daniel. By the time I met Ferretti, he was in position to take the leadership of SG-2, should the program continue."

"See, Boss?" Ferretti grinned. "I keep telling you I'm ready to lead my own team."

"Right now we'll be lucky to get SG-1 access. Don't be picking out your team just yet."

Samantha looked confused. "You're not using your 'gate? Is that why when I came through there was no one around?"

"We'll get to that later," he stated. Right now he was interested in what else she could tell him about his team in this other reality. "You said Kawalsky is. . .no longer on your SG-1?"

Samantha looked at Charlie briefly then shifted her gaze to her hands resting on the table. "He, uh, was taken over by a Goa'uld," she said quietly.

"A go-ah what?" Kawalsky asked, surprisingly calm in the face of his own supposed death.

"Go-ah-oold," she pronounced. "You haven't run across them here?"

Daniel exchanged glances with his team. "Um, no. But then we haven't been to this Abydos either."

Samantha was nodding to herself. "That would explain a lot." Looking up, she added, "Count yourselves lucky. They've come close to wiping out Earth on more than one occasion. In fact, this is the first reality I've heard of that hasn't been battling the Goa'uld."

"You've been to others?" Daniel said, unable to hide his disbelief.

"Well, I haven't, but Daniel-my Daniel-was the first to encounter an alternate universe and we were able to use the knowledge he learned there to save our own reality. Then we had visitors come to our universe, fleeing the Goa'uld. With the similarities between our current realities, I'm willing to bet they're out there. So far your Earth hasn't crossed their radar. Yet."

Daniel wanted to tell her of his own experiences to an alternate world, but was working on getting intel from her first. Frankly, he was a little surprised at her willingness to divulge so much information. Obviously she didn't see his team as a threat, and he wasn't sure if that was a positive thing or not.

"What about me?" Janet asked. "You seem to know me as well. When did I join your SG-1?"

Samantha smiled at her with genuine warmth. "You didn't. You're our Chief Medical Officer."

"Me? A doctor?" Janet was practically speechless.

Samantha nodded. "And the best there is," she stated with pride. "You know more about alien physiology than anyone on the planet."

Janet looked over at Daniel, a self-conscious blush staining her cheeks. "I was this close to a medical degree," she said. "Until my former husband insisted I give it up." Her bitter tone alerted Daniel it was still a sore spot with her. She looked across the table at Samantha. "I'm the team's xenobiologist. Closest thing I guess I'll get to being the planet's foremost expert on alien physiology."

Samantha's smile was empathetic, and in that moment Daniel knew this woman was fast on her way to convincing him she posed no threat. Clearing his throat to get Samantha's attention, Daniel redirected her back to an earlier statement.

"Who is this 'Colonel O'Neill' you spoke of?"

"He's my CO The leader of SG-1. He. . ." Suddenly, she sat up, panicked. "Oh, my God! He still doesn't know what happened to me! Please! You have to let me call him, or contact him some how!"

Daniel looked around at his team again. "I didn't know you had a way to contact. . ."

"No! The Jack O'Neill here!" She was on her feet now. "Please! You have to let me talk to him!"

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Ms. Carter," Daniel said. "You still haven't been given clearance. Please sit down." Samantha sat on the edge of her chair, resting her elbows on the table, scrubbing her fingers through her hair.

"Look, all I want to do is let him know I'm okay. I won't tell him where I am I just don't want him to worry."

"It's not that I don't sympathize with your situation, but until you're officially cleared, I can't allow you to speak to anyone outside this facility." Daniel was getting angry; he wasn't used to having his orders questioned.

Samantha fell back against the seat of her chair. "You're being as obtuse as that assh. . .jerk Samuels," she muttered.

Daniel tried to moderate his voice. "I realize as a civilian you're probably unaware of military protocol. After we're sure of your intentions and you've signed a non-disclosure agreement, we'll see about getting you that phone call."

Samantha leapt to her feet, slamming her palms on the table. "I know all about military protocol and the stalling techniques you're no doubt going to employ. I'm a Major where I come from so don't try to bullshit me!"

Daniel was now on his feet, his own hands on the table, staring the woman down. "Then I'm guessing Colonel out-ranks Major in your world as well. Have a seat, _Major."_

"Sir? If I may?"

"What, Kawalsky?" Daniel bit out.

"Would it be all right if I called him? We've already been in contact over this incident. I could assure him of her safety without revealing where she is."

Daniel retook his seat, feeling some of the tension from the confrontation drain from him. "That would be acceptable. Major?"

Samantha sat down, placing her folded hands back on the table, her fingers laced together in a tight grip. Nodding, she said, "I'm sorry, Colonel. It's just a little unnerving taking orders from you. It won't happen again."

Hoping to diffuse the stress permeating the room, Daniel changed topics. "In the course of your missions, are there any other enemies you've encountered?"

"Well, the Goa'uld are certainly our priority at this point, but the Replicators are also a major threat." Daniel's gaze touched on his team members, they too realized the significance of Samantha's statement.

"Have you found a way of battling them?" Ferretti asked.

"For the most part we've just kind of gotten lucky," Samantha admitted. "So far our automatic weapons have been effective, but they learn exponentially. It won't take long for them to adapt new ways to protect themselves."

"Like a virus," Janet said.

"Exactly!" Sam said, giving her a big grin. "In fact you and I, well, Dr. Fraiser and I have theorized some type of anti-viral might be a possible solution." Daniel could practically see the wheels turning in Janet's head. The two women certainly had a common ground.

"So, the Replicators must be plaguing this universe as well," Samantha guessed. Daniel didn't want to be the one to confirm or deny her supposition. That was General Carter's call.

XXXXXX

Jacob tugged on the bottom of his dress jacket, running a finger around his collar, pulling slightly on his tie. He saw the guard notice his actions and stopped fussing. It wouldn't do to let the enlisteds see he was nervous.

"They're ready for you, sir," another guard announced, holding the door open. Jacob took a decisive step into the room and stopped cold. A blonde haired woman stood and faced him, and he was frozen, mouth hanging open. He thought he was prepared to see the image of his wife on this woman, but he was totally unprepared for the reality of it. She looked so much like Louise it twisted his heart, punching him in the gut. His wife had been about the same age at the time of the accident, and it was like stepping back twenty years into the past. She broke the spell with a single word.

"Dad?"

Jacob swallowed, hoping to find his voice, but nothing came out. "I'm sorry," she said, getting up and moving towards him. She extended a hand. "General Carter, sir." He continued to stare numbly at her, wishing something, anything, would come to him so he could answer her.

"Samantha Carter," she said, flashing him a big smile that twisted his heart even tighter. "I'm sure this is a bit of a shock, sir. Why don't you have a seat?" She led him to the table, taking the chair next to him. _When had she taken control of the situation?_ he wondered.

"Ms. Carter," he managed, still not taking his gaze from her. She looked so much like her mother, and yet, he could see bits of himself as well, the shape of her nose and mouth, and God help her, his ears. Is this what his Sammie would have looked like if she'd survived? She was beautiful in the way her mother had been beautiful, spirit, passion and intelligence shining from her blue eyes that were unmistakably Louise's. Fortunately, Daniel spoke up, distracting him from his staring.

"General, Major Carter here has been telling us a bit about the world she comes from, and some of the common enemies we face."

"_Major_ Carter?" he asked, taking a seat at the head of the table.

Samantha retook her own chair, smiling proudly. "I'm in the Air Force." A disapproving "hmmmph" escaped his mouth. "You are too, or rather were," she added pointedly, quelling any derisive comments he might have made.

"Followed in the old man's footsteps?"

"Something like that."

"Pilot?"

"Not so much anymore. I have seen combat, though. I keep up on my qualifiers, just in case."

Jacob's mind was starting to engage again, and while he still found himself looking for similarities, he was starting to take in information as well. "You said I was in the Air Force. I'm not any longer?"

Samantha shifted in her seat. "You're retired from the military, but not _all_ service." At his questioning glance, she added, "Long story. Maybe we can talk about it later?" He cracked a smile. She still seemed to be dictating this meeting more than a detainee should have been.

"As I said, Major Carter was telling us about her Stargate program and some of the problems they're facing. I thought you would like to hear first hand what she has to say."

Jacob nodded. "Proceed."

"You said you've encountered the Replicators in your universe," Daniel started. "Where was that?"

Samantha thought for a few moments. "Have you met the Asgard?" The people assembled in the room shook their heads.

"No, we haven't," Jacob said. "We haven't had much chance to use the Stargate."

"Let me guess," Samantha said with a disappointed shake of her own head. "Kinsey."

Jacob perked up. "You know him?"

Sighing, Samantha answered, "Unfortunately, yes. He's been a thorn in the side of our SGC since it's inception." Jacob had a hard choice to make. Let her in on the missions and politics of the Stargate Coalition, or focus on how she managed to infiltrate Area 51. He wanted to know both facets, but right now, the Replicators were his prime concern, and Daniel seemed to believe she was vital to finding the answer. Prosecution, if he chose that route, could wait.

"Colonel Jackson, in light of the fact our guest already seems to know much of our sensitive information, you're authorized to reveal what you feel is necessary."

Given the go ahead, Daniel leapt right in. "We haven't met the, Asgard? did you call them?"

Samantha described them to the assembly, completing the picture by comparing them to the famed "Roswell Grays." "So while you currently haven't met them in this universe, they've been here in the past. Colonel O'Neill was the first to recently encounter them, and he seemed to form a bond with their leader, Thor."

"Thor? As in the Norse god?" Ferretti asked.

"Many of the aliens who've visited Earth in the past would have seemed like gods to the primitive peoples, and legends grow with each retelling. I'm guessing a little gray being half their size didn't seem very intimidating, so they made him more imposing." Ferretti shrugged, conceding the point.

Next to him, Kawalsky began to chuckle, causing Jacob to give the man a hard stare. "I'm sorry, General," he said, swallowing down his mirth. "I just have a hard time seeing the Jack O'Neill I know having any kind of a relationship with little green men."

Janet was focused on the scientific aspects of Samantha's revelation. "So this Colonel O'Neill has interacted with these beings? Isn't there a language barrier? How do they communicate? Is it just a general feel for concepts, or is it actual words?"

Jacob noticed how bright Janet's eyes had become in her excitement. He'd never been much for scientists in the military, but obviously they were a necessity. She asked questions that never would have occurred to him.

Samantha was leaning forward, the same excitement in her eyes. "That's what I wondered when the Colonel told us about his experience. He said the words kind of were just in his head, like he'd heard them, but all around him, there was absolute silence."

"So, telepathy?"

"Not exactly. Later we found out the Asgard have a technology they call 'communication stones,' but at the time, it was a mystery how we knew what they were saying. In fact. . ."

"Major, and Major," Daniel said, looking between the two women, "While this is fascinating, there are more important issues we need to focus on." Samantha's face split into a huge grin. "What?" Daniel asked.

Samantha was shaking her head. "It's just so funny hearing you taking control of the meeting. Daniel is usually the one sidetracking us."

Daniel cleared his throat. "Yes, well, apparently there are significant differences in our universes. So, you met these Asgard. I'm not sure how they figure into the Replicators, but I'm sure you're about to tell us."

"The Asgard became our allies. They brought us under their umbrella with the Protected Planets Treaty." She held up her hand, "I'll tell you more about that too, later. Instead of us relying on the Asgard for help as was usually the case, they needed ours. Apparently their galaxy was being over-run by Replicators, and they needed some 'low tech' options to deal with them. Needless to say, we were dumb enough for them."

Jacob smiled at his "daughter's" description. He liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Not only from a tactical standpoint, but a personal one as well. Sammie had so wanted to be an astronaut. It eased his heart to know a version of his daughter had gone beyond that. Done things people only dreamed of as being possible. To have a glimpse of what could have been was difficult, but he was also grateful to have had that look.

Samantha continued, "As I said, the Asgard's homeworld and their ships were being taken over by the Replicators and the only thing capable of even slowing them down were our automatic weapons. We knew it was a stop-gap measure. The Replicators were devouring and assimilating Asgard technology. We realized it wouldn't be long before they evolved past the point our weapons would be effective."

"So, have you developed another weapon?" Daniel asked.

Samantha's gaze swept the room. "Unfortunately, no. We're working on it, but so far, we haven't been successful. As I told you, the Goa'uld, are the larger threat in my universe."

"Goa'uld?" Jacob asked, looking at his colonel.

"I'll brief you later, sir." Daniel looked disappointed, Jacob decided, but not defeated. "I'll admit I was hoping you might have a solution," the Colonel told Samantha. "We first encountered the Replicators on an Earth-like planet; I don't recall the designation. At any rate we discovered a young woman, living by herself in a devastated city. She seemed rather child-like for her physical maturity, and yet appeared quite intelligent. She claimed she didn't know where all the people had gone, and begged us not to leave her alone. Naturally we weren't going to leave her by herself, and brought her back here for further evaluation."

"Let me guess," Samantha said. "Her name was Reese and she turned out to be a sophisticated android."

"Yes!" Janet exclaimed. "You've met her?"

"Regretfully, yes. But not in the same way. She was inactive when we found her, and we made the mistake of turning her on."

"Then you're aware she made the Replicators, considering them 'toys'?" Janet asked.

"Yes, but since we'd encountered them on Thor's ship, we already knew what a threat they posed. In the end, we had to destroy her in order to gain control of the situation."

"Our Reese managed to escape," Daniel continued. "I don't know why she hadn't learned how to operate the Stargate on her planet, because she certainly learned how to use ours fast enough."

Jacob watched Samantha. Her brow wrinkled, thoughts turned inward, she looked as if she puzzled long enough, she could give Jackson an answer.

"The real problem is, she took her mechanical bugs with her, wherever it is she went. We've been trying to locate her, but about the time we get a lock on where she is, she flees to another planet." Daniel pushed a printed MALP image towards Samantha. "this is recon from our last mission. As you can see, the Replicators have evolved significantly, and are now organizing themselves into ships. Reese felt we betrayed her. I have no doubt she's planning on sending this armada against Earth."

Samantha studied the image. "When was this taken?"

"Six months ago," Daniel told her.

"_Six months!_ They could be here any day! You don't have anything more recent?"

"The Malp was the last thing to go through our Stargate before it was shut down," Jacob interceded.

Samantha turned her attention to him. "Begging your pardon, General, but that's probably the worst thing you could have done! You need to be out there, gathering intel, looking for a way to stop them!"

"This wasn't my decision," Jacob said with a sigh. "Vice-President Kinsey," _in his infinite wisdom_, he thought bitterly, "Feels the invasion will come through the Stargate, and his solution was to shut down the 'gate and he's doing his best to get the entire program shut down."

"What does the President have to say?"

"He says it's Kinsey's call. He's too involved trying to solve the current crisis in the Middle East."

"Doesn't he realize the threat the Replicators pose? That it won't matter who's fighting who once they attack?"

"That would be our problem," Daniel said, tapping his fingers together. "The President could probably be persuaded if he was fully briefed, but Kinsey's using this to his advantage. Assuring him the situation is under control, while making it impossible for us to adequately prepare. The truth is, we're _not_ prepared. Which is why I was so excited to see you on the security feed."

Looking around at the people in the room, Samantha answered, "I'm not following you."

"About a year ago we traveled to P3R-233. We found what looked like a deserted lab. . ."

"And there was a device, there, a quantum mirror."

"Yes!" Daniel rushed on in his enthusiasm. "I didn't know at the time what it was, but after I'd touched it, everything seemed to be turned upside down. People I knew weren't in the same jobs; the SGC wasn't at. . .here; you were there, as Doctor of Astrophysics. Obviously I didn't know who you were, since I hadn't met you in my reality, but you saved that Earth from the Replicators."

"_I_ did? Do you have any idea how I, or rather she, did it?"

Daniel glanced at Jacob with an apologetic look. The two of them had been over and over anything Jackson could remember. Jacob hadn't expected him to know how to build the device, but anything he could tell the engineers might have given them a leg up in their current fight against the Replicators.

"Sadly, no," Daniel said. "I was hurrying to get back to the device-mirror-whatever it was before the base was overrun. All I can tell you is it worked. Colonel Hammond of that reality was covering me, and the blast wave the device emitted caused the blocks to loose cohesion and, falling inert to the floor."

Scrutinizing her, Jacob surmised she was already working on the puzzle from the expression of concentration on Samantha's face. "Have you done any reverse engineering on any technologies you've brought back? Is there a lab where I could work?"

Jacob wasn't sure he was ready to trust her. True, she seemed invested in helping them destroy the Replicators, but other than a striking resemblance to his wife and daughter, he really had no evidence she was who she claimed to be.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Jacob could feel the weight of the stares his people were giving him. He wasn't sure where Kawalsky and Ferretti fell on the issue as they had remained mostly silent. Janet and Daniel were ready to hand over the keys to the entire facility. If she was a spy, Major Carter would be interested in what was in development. Perhaps they could start slower, allow her access to some of the oddities the military had collected over the years. Who knew, maybe she could even identify some of them.

"Colonel Jackson. Why don't you take the major to our 'showroom.' Perhaps something there will provide some inspiration." Jacob stood, effectively ending the meeting. He needed to have another conversation with George, and collaborate with him on how much he was authorized to reveal to the latest addition to Area 51.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**19**

Jack woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. It was muffled. _Where'd he put the damn thing?_ His muzzy mind tried to focus enough for him to recall where he'd left it. It sounded as if it was somewhere on the coffee table. The one next to the couch where he must have passed out the night before. He discovered the device just before the call was sent to his voicemail.

"Hello?" he croaked into the phone.

"_Jack? That you? Jeeze, you sound terrible_."

Jack tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. "Kawalsky? I had a little too much to drink last night," he said, licking his lips hoping to find some moisture. He was rubbing a hand over his face, trying to wake up. He needed water, but it seemed too far away at the moment.

"_Hey, I've got some information on that girlfriend of yours._"

Instantly, Jack was awake. "You found her? Where is she? Is she okay? Put her on the phone!"

"_Easy, Buddy. I said I have some information. She's all right, but she isn't being allowed phone calls. They let me call you because I've been in contact with you when she went missing."_

"In contact with me about _what_? All I told you was my girlfriend had been taken by some Army guys. You _know_ who took her?"

_"Jack, you know I can't talk about. . ."_

"Bullshit, Charlie! How is it a guy who's a glorified astronomer knows about why the government would want Sam? Need help naming a new star or something?"

Kawalsky's voice lowered, "_You're not stupid, Jack. You know that's not what I do"_

"Then what is it you do? Kidnap civilians who didn't get your burger order right?"

_"You know Samantha is way more than a waitress. The government is interested in her other 'talents'."_

"Oh, so you're on a first name basis now? Just how well did you and _Samantha_ get to know each other?"

_"Jesus, Jack, will you listen to yourself? Do you really think this is all about me having a affair with your girlfriend?"_

Jack took a deep breath. "No, of course not. I'm just so damn worried about her I can't think straight."

_"I know. She's been trying to get permission to call you. She's just as freaked out as you. I was the only option they would allow."_

"So, she's really okay? She's with you, or your people?"

_"For now. Look, you know I'll watch out for her the same as if she was Marie."_

"I know," Jack sighed. "I just wish I could talk to her myself. How long is this going to go on?"

_"I really can't say. She's working on a problem for us. I'm guessing when she has a solution she'll be free to go."_

"Days? Weeks? Months?"

_"I don't know. Honestly. Hey, I've got to go. I've probably told you too much already."_

_"_Too much? You haven't told me anything!"

_"She, uh, asked me to give you a message."_ Jack could tell Kawalsky was finding it difficult to voice her request. _"She told me to tell you she loves you."_ The last bit came out in such a rush it was practically a single word.

Jack was finding it just as difficult to say the words to Charlie for him to relay, but he knew it would give Sam some comfort. "Tell her, um tell her, I love her too." There. He'd said the words aloud to someone other than Sam while she was sleeping. Instead of feeling embarrassed, he felt oddly free.

_"Who do you two think I am? Cupid? You seen any wings or a bow lately?"_ Jack smiled at his friend's rant. Actually, Kawalsky _should_ be considered Cupid. He'd played matchmaker to him enough times.

"Thanks, for calling, Charlie. Doesn't mean I'm going to take this lying down, but at least I know she's all right and she's got you looking out for her."

_"I'll do what I can. Talk to you later."_ With that, the line went dead. Jack got up off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen to retrieve a much needed glass of water. Leaning against the counter, he began to wonder about Kawalsky's call. She was safe _for now_. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He got the impression it wasn't his "people" who'd taken Sam, although she was now with them. It didn't add up. Sam was necessary to something Kawalsky and his group was working on, but another group wanted her badly enough to kidnap her before "the good guys" could get to her.

How did they even know about her? Sure she claimed to be a theoretical astrophysicist, but he hadn't seen her doing any astro-physing. It wasn't like her waitressing was a front for secret science projects. She was at her job all morning and with him at night. She had to be working her full shifts because if she didn't, Jack knew someone at the diner would bitch to him Sam was always ducking out the back. The only time he could think she would be completely on her own would be from two p.m. until 5 p.m., and even in that block of time, she usually crossed paths with Charlie. It just didn't make sense.

Finishing his water Jack looked up, noticing it was nearly noon. _Good thing it's Saturday_, he thought. He hadn't planned on drinking himself into a stupor the night before. Charlie had spent the night at a friend's, and the house had been just too quiet.

He wasn't sure how in a matter of weeks Sam had become a fixture in his home. So much so that when she wasn't there, he felt like a lost puppy. At first he'd had one beer to try to relax, to get his mind off why on Earth someone would want to take her. That led to another, and soon the six pack was empty. Whiskey was the next up, starting with ice and water. Then the ice went away, followed by the water and finally the glass. He deserved the pounding in his head for his stupidity. The last time he'd been on a binge had been after Sara had died. Charlie had been the one to find him and right then and there he resolved to get his act together. Since that time two beers had been his limit.

He needed to clean up the mess in the living room before his son came home, which could be at any minute. Dragging the recycling bin over to the coffee table, Jack winced at the pain in his head as the deposited bottles clinked way too loudly. Then there was the stale odor permeating the room. His already sensitive stomach roiled at the scent of spilled whiskey, and it took several deep breaths through his mouth to calm his nausea. A good cleaning with Pine-Sol and some open windows would make the room habitable again.

Folding up the last of the newspapers, Jack came across Sam's laptop. She had few possessions and the computer was sacred to her. She'd never asked him not to use it, it was simply understood: _this is mine. Don't touch it._ And he hadn't. He respected her privacy and warned Charlie off as well.

Now it was blinking at him, taunting him to open it and see what kind of secret files it contained. Proof she was working with dissidents to take over America. He almost wished he _would_ find something subversive so there was a reason they'd taken her. Jack continued to debate if he had the right to betray her trust and open the lid. What if there was something that could help exonerate her and he hadn't looked?

He was inching towards it, then stopped. If there was something on the computer that would help her, she would have mentioned it to Kawalsky. Jack picked up the laptop and took it to their bedroom, unopened. He hoped to God he'd made the right choice.

**A/N**-Another short one. I'll post chapter 20 later today.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**20**

Sam looked around the storeroom Daniel had led her to. She'd been to Area 51 on several occasions in her universe, but it had never looked like this. Items in her world were cataloged, but often it was a hodgepodge with no clear sub-sections to help locate any given item. This room was a warehouse and was so neat and organized, Sam's mouth dropped open. Speechless, she turned to Daniel who shrugged.

"We've had a lot of time on our hands since Kinsey closed the Stargate."

"Some how I don't see you as a clerk," she said.

"Surprisingly, I seem quite suited to cataloging," he smiled, as if admitting a guilty pleasure.

"Must be the archaeologist in you," she mumbled distractedly, staring down an aisle. Some things she'd seen before, others were new. Considering the number of missions this SGC had run in comparison to her own, she was surprised at the amount of alien technology tagged, and sitting on the shelves.

"You have a naquadah reactor? Have you made a generator?" she asked, wondering why it was gathering dust on a shelf. "I had to build my own. Well, with some help, that is."

"Is that what this is? We had no idea," Daniel took a step closer. "We found it on a planet that according to their texts referred to itself as 'Orban.' At least it had in the past."

"In the past?"

"They'd been wiped out, I'm not sure by whom," Daniel said, running his fingers over the rough surface of the reactor. "My gut says the Replicators, but I have no evidence to base that on. We didn't find any blocks."

"You're probably right," she sighed. "I'm sure someone here could have made a generator if they'd had Merrin's help." Daniel gave her a puzzled look. "Merrin is the girl who helped me understand the reactor and assisted with the development of our generator."

"A _girl_? Children of their society were that advanced?"

"Some of them. They learned vast amounts of knowledge very quickly through the use of nanites. Which is kind of ironic, actually, since nanites work together in much the same way as Replicators. If you're right, it's like their cousins wiped them out."

Daniel just nodded. "Any chance you could make this into a generator?"

Sam walked over to the solid rectangle, turning it this way and that. "Given enough time, I could probably figure it out again, but without my notes. . . ."

"And time is one of the thing we don't have a lot of. Let's keep looking. Maybe there's something else that wouldn't take so long to get up and running." Sam continued to peruse the gadgets, but hadn't found anything she thought had potential.

"I feel like I'm at an alien garage sale" she quipped, unable to hide her smile. Daniel smiled back, but Sam could see he was mulling something over. While he didn't know her beyond his brush with another version of herself, she had the benefit of knowing a Daniel for years.

"So, how is it you came through our Stargate, from another universe?" Sam blinked at the unexpected segue.

"Well, I wasn't trying to, if that's what you mean." They continued to stroll through the stock of off-world devices as Sam relayed events as she could recall them. Daniel listened patiently, much more indulgent than Jack, she thought.

"I dialed Earth, and when I came through, I was here. Only I didn't know something was up for a few minutes. It didn't take me long to realize I wasn't in my 'gate room, though. It was dark, there were no troops, and the biggest difference of all, there was a DHD."

Daniel stopped moving forward. "You don't have a DHD? How do you work your 'gate?"

"_That_ was a bit of a sticking point in getting ours to work," she smiled. "Daniel had translated the glyphs on the cover stone to read 'Stargate' to begin with, but we still didn't know how to turn it on. In our universe, it didn't come with an instruction manual. In any language."

"Wait a second," Daniel said, holding up his hand. "_I_ translated it? I admit I know a few languages, but obscure ancient Egyptian isn't one of them. Catherine Langford was the one who cracked the code. And we did have a 'manual', so to speak."

"You did?"

"The tablet of cartouches," he clarified. "You didn't have that either?"

"Daniel found more on Abydos, but we never found anything similar on Earth. We thought the Stargate only went to Abydos until he found more cartouches on the walls of a temple. And then we realized we needed to account for stellar drift in order to make the Stargate connect."

"Wow," he said, running his hand through his hair. "I guess we _did_ have it easy in comparison to you. So, if you didn't have a DHD, how did you get your 'gate to work?"

"I was on the team that developed the dialing program. It took us fifteen years and three super-computers to get it to work. We'd been working on it for so long, I was actually kind of surprised when it did establish a wormhole."

"Okay," Daniel said, pushing his glasses back into place. "Let me get this straight, you're on an unknown planet, and you can't find your team. You just discovered a shifting energy field and were taking readings when you were engulfed and essentially knocked unconscious, is that right?"

"Good so far."

"From what I've seen, it takes a device, a quantum mirror, I think you called it, to send a person or maybe persons from one reality to the next. How could this energy field do that on its own?"

Sam began pacing back and forth before him. "I've been wondering the same thing, and I've been working on a theory since I arrived here. First of all, it would require massive amounts of energy like you said, a collapsing star, or a black hole. The planet we initially 'gated to was near such a star, it was actually why we were there-to help evacuate the local population." Daniel nodded, urging her to continue.

"We didn't get a chance to investigate because of the electrical storm, like I said. I'm guessing the lightening strike which I believe diverted the wormhole to the other planet, was influenced by the gravitational pull of the collapsing star. When I showed up on the new planet, a portion of that energy came with me, infusing the existing native energy field. Probably what happened to me was some kind of overload that caused a rift or bridge between universes."

"So, if you were able to 'gate back to that planet, you should be able to get back to your universe," Daniel theorized.

Sam looked at the floor. "I don't think so." She thought a moment then looked up at him. "I got zapped pretty good, but I don't think there was enough energy to sustain the bridge for more than a few seconds. I also think after the overload, the field would have 'blown itself out.' Kind of like a pilot light on a gas appliance exposed to a gust of wind."

Daniel gazed at her with sympathy. "You're really stuck here, then. What a great time to come for a visit," he smirked at the irony. "Right as were about to be destroyed by Replicators."

Sam smiled, giving him a reassuring nudge. "We're not down for the count yet." Realizing how familiar she was being with someone who technically was her superior, Sam straightened and apologized. "I'm sorry, sir. You're so much like my Daniel, I forgot myself."

"Think nothing of it, Major," he smiled. "In fact, it's kind of refreshing being treated as a friend for a change."

"It's not a bad universe," she added conversationally. "There's a lot of things I like about this one over my own." Sam immediately thought of the fact she wasn't subject to frat regulations here, but there were other things as well.

"Oh? Like what?" Daniel asked, gesturing they should continue on their tour.

"Technology, for one thing. You're slightly ahead of where we were when I left. It's not a huge difference, maybe five years or so. Maybe your world is just better at marketing," she grinned. "And you have these amazing snack chips, made out of quinoa."

Daniel laughed out loud at that. "Score one for Frito-Lay." She smiled at him, and found herself comparing him to the Daniel she knew. He had her Daniel's sense of humor, but he was different in subtle ways as Jack was different from Colonel O'Neill. Even after all these years, there was still an underlying sadness to her Daniel. She suspected it would always be there. Colonel Jackson hadn't met and fell in love with Sha're so there was a harder edge to him. Sam still recognized his compassion, and innate curiosity, but it was tempered by the weight of command. She hadn't witnessed it, but Sam guessed a good deal of his passion was directed towards his team. It probably was difficult for him to send people into dangerous situations, and she suspected he did so only after careful consideration. Even if that consideration took only seconds. She'd trust herself under his command, Sam decided, and few leaders engendered that kind of faith in her.

"You've gone awfully quiet," Daniel noted, drawing her from her musings.

"Sorry, you just got me thinking about differences and similarities is all." Sam looked up and past him, noticing an elongated device, reminding her of a gauntlet with an expanded gun barrel on the end. Sam felt a tingle of recognition traveling her spine. "Where did you get this?"

"I'm not sure," Daniel muttered, picking up the tag to look at it. "P3X-493," he read, tapping his lips. "If I recall, there were a few other objects from there as well." He moved down the shelf and picked up several crystals, but from their dull color, it appeared they were inactive.

"These are Ancient," she whispered in awe.

"Well, we haven't carbon dated them and they don't look. . ."

"No! I mean Ancient as in the progenitors of Human life in this galaxy!" She moved past him again, picking up the dead crystals. "Definitely Ancient and not Asgard," she spoke to herself. "Was there anything else?" Sam was excited now. It seemed like this was the first break she'd had, and the familiarity of the alien technology felt reassuring. Even if she didn't know how to work it.

"Just this," Daniel said, handing her a donut shaped object. Sam turned it over, looking at it from several view points, but she had no idea what it was.

"This isn't familiar," she told him, "But the writing is Ancient."

"Can you read it?" he asked, sticking his head in her line of sight trying to see the glyphs on the side of the item.

Sam exhaled. "No. Daniel was-is-our expert on the language of the Ancients. I can recognize some of the symbols, but I can't read them. See?" she said pointing to a squarish pictograph on the device in her hand. "This means 'energy' so it could be something to do with the generation of energy, or the dissipation of it."

"Kind of opposite meanings," he observed.

"Yeah, and potentially deadly if you don't have the right translation. Their language is incredibly complex, like their technology. Daniel's just begun to scratch the surface of their texts."

"So, still no possibility for help against the Replicators," Daniel sighed.

Sam went back and picked up the first piece she'd recognized as being Ancient. It was bulky, but lighter than it looked. It resembled a rifle in that it had a barrel and was steadied with two hands. One arm slid into the gauntlet of the device, where there were indentations fitted to a person's palm.

"Not necessarily," she said, holding up the weapon with her arm. "This device was definitely made for a Human shaped hand. I'm guessing the 'trigger' is the contact with the palm."

Daniel stepped around to her side to get out of the way of the business end of device. "Then why isn't it coming on?"

Angling her head to see the underside, Sam was stumped. "I don't know. Maybe it needs to be recharged or something." She looked up at him, "I want to take these things to a lab and do a little more research. Is that possible?"

"Just have to sign them out," he said, picking up the crystals and the circular object. "We have a staff that should be able to assist you," he added.

"No offense, Da. . .Colonel, but I generally do better on my own."

"And I'm sorry, Major. While I believe you're acting in America and Earth's best interest, there's still a question of loyalty. Until you've been cleared, I can't allow you unrestricted access to anything here."

Sam nodded. She couldn't blame him. After all, it wouldn't be prudent to let her have free rein until she'd proven herself. "Understood."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N—**Thanks again for the reviews; I really appreciate them!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**21**

Robert Kinsey didn't look up when he heard his door open. "Thank you, Linda. Just leave the file on the side table."

George Hammond held up a manilla folder. "Would this be the file in question, Mr. Vice-President?" It was stamped "top secret: eyes only" and he wielded it like a summons. In a way, George guessed it was.

"Did we have an appointment, General?" Kinsey asked, barely glancing up. His tone was mockingly polite, and George gave him an equally insincere smile.

"I realize you're a busy man, but I think you'll want to take time for this." Hammond took a seat before it was offered, sliding the file across the desk. Kinsey reached for his glasses, making a show of placing them on his pinched face. Reclining into the leather armchair, George noticed everything Kinsey did was a show. To intimidate, impress, stall, or simply annoy, he moved as if scripted and the part he played in this drama was his usual roll: pompous ass. He excelled at it.

Robert flipped through the report, barely looking at it's contents. Sighing, he pulled off his glasses. "I _really_ don't have time for this."

"I'm not sure you understand, Mr. Vice-President, this woman was forcibly taken from her place of employment, questioned and detained without legal representation. As far as I know, that's considered a crime."

"And since when does the head of Homeworld Security concern himself with this kind of domestic issue? Isn't this a little pedestrian for a cabinet-level office?"

"Since the woman in question somehow infiltrated Area 51, I think it's very much the realm of Homeland Security." Kinsey started to interrupt, but George continued. "The question I have, is why _you're_ interested her."

Robert chuckled. "You think _I_ am? I don't even know her name."

"I know you've seen the initial report from the SGC. I saw you were copied on Colonel Jackson's report. Although, with as busy as you are, I suppose you could have missed it."

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying, General."

"And I don't like being lied to. Sir." George watched Kinsey's neck, then face bloom to an angry red. The man had a temper and often the secret to getting vital information from him was to push his buttons.

George tossed another file on Kinsey's desk. "When you heard of Ms. Carter's 'arrival' within Area 51, you didn't waste any time or resources in finding her and taking her into custody. In fact you made it your mission to get to her before the SGC could make contact."

"That's ridiculous! If I _had_ heard about this woman I would have contacted you. This is the realm of your office," Kinsey said, waving his hand over the file.

"Yes, it is," George confirmed. "And as head of Homeworld Security, you think I don't keep regular tabs on what goes on beneath NORAD?"

Robert pulled at his collar. George watched his eyes shift and hands clench into fists. His nervous gestures were much more telling than the rhetoric he was sure to spout. "I would hope you would be aware of who was being detained there. Again, I don't see what that has to do with me."

Hammond waited a moment or two, letting the Vice-President stew. "You've heard of Lieutenant Colonel Bert Samuels?"

Kinsey tightened up slightly before he forced himself to fein a relaxed posture. One thing for certain, George thought, the man had never been trained into schooling his reactions during an interrogation. "The name's not ringing any bells."

"Really? He certainly seems to know you." George pushed the second file closer to Robert. "It's a full disclosure. In return for certain concessions, of course. It should comfort you to know the man didn't sell you out easily."

Kinsey's hands were shaking with rage, and his unsteady fingers caused the sheets from the new file to rattle in the silence of the room. "What do you want?" he asked, still staring at the papers in his grasp.

"Not that much, really." Hammond waited until Kinsey looked up and met his gaze. "I want you to leave the SGC alone."

"That's not possible! The Replicators. . . .!"

"Are coming, and the SGC and SG-1 are our best hope."

"You're making a _huge_ mistake," Robert warned. "Not only politically and professionally, but putting this _entire planet_ at risk. I'm sure the President would _love_ to hear how you're doing your best to blackmail this office and. . ."

"Save it, Kinsey. The only thing you're concerned about is getting your ass nailed. Hiding behind the Vice-Presidency isn't going to save you this time. The President is more than aware of your nefarious dealings, and I won't hesitate to give him the evidence he needs to crucify you."

It was obvious he'd succeeded in cornering Kinsey. He didn't think for one minute the enraged tiger was going to be contained. Kinsey had always held a grudge against him, and he wasn't certain why. It was the main reason he'd accepted the post as director of Homeland Security. The SGC kept coming under attack from Kinsey, and George thought his removal would ease some of the pressure. He'd been wrong. At least now the program would be granted a reprieve. For the moment. He'd worry about the future of the Stargate if they survived the Replicators.

"Well, Mr. Vice-President?"

"Don't think this is over," Robert growled.

"I don't expect it is," Hammond said, rising. "I'll make sure you're appraised of SG-1's progress, sir."

**A/N**-Another short one. I'll post another short chapter later today. Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**22**

Sam gazed around the woefully ill-equipped lab. The assistants were helpful enough, but until that moment, she hadn't realized how much of her diagnostic equipment she'd configured and built herself. Every time she went for a tool or a program, she found it was something that didn't exist here. She didn't have time to re-write what she needed, and decided she had to get a little more creative.

Despite the drawbacks, there was an element of fun in all this, Sam admitted to herself. Even though she found she actually _liked_ waitressing, there was no comparing it to the thrill she got analyzing alien technology.

"Okay," she said, placing her hands on her hips, addressing her two new lab assistants. "Let's start with getting an electro-magnetic scan on the ring. Dr. Lee, if you would do the honors?"

"Please, call me Bill," the shorter, balding man said, smiling widely at her.

Sam smiled back and nodded. "Bill. Why don't you use the bench over there," she suggested, pointing to her left.

"And . . ."

"Chloe."

"Chloe, if you could, take a look at these crystals. I'm pretty sure there's no power left in them, but we can't be certain. So, be careful; they may zap you."

"So, you've seen these before?" Chloe asked, obviously in awe Sam knew what the crystals were capable of.

"Yes, that's why I think they're inert. But don't take my word for it, there could be a residual charge." Chloe nodded, moving to another bench.

Sam turned around and began examining what she'd concluded was most likely a weapon. The design definitely fit the standard model for Ancient technology. The rounded lines and ultra-light metal spoke for themselves, and she grinned at the chance to take it apart.

XXXXXX

Daniel stuck his head into the underused lab, noting the three occupants busily working, oblivious to his arrival. Sam in particular seemed consumed, removing a piece from the partially disassembled "gun," and logging it in on the new laptop.

"Hey," he said, hoping he didn't startle her. Sam stood up, stretched her back and smiled brightly.

"Hey."

"How's it going?"

"Slow, but I want to make sure I've properly recorded how it was taken apart so I put it back together in the right order." Daniel nodded.

"You still think this is 'Ancient' technology?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it. It follows their usual pattern, both in looks and in internal configuration."

Daniel felt a surge of hope. "So you know what it is?"

"Absolutely no idea."

"How about a guess?" he ventured.

Sam moved around the bench she was working at, looking at the device from several angles. "Well, I would say a weapon, but a weapon against _what_ I don't know. It doesn't employ ammunition as we know it. It appears to be energy based."

"So, a ray gun," he joked, but Sam didn't crack a smile.

"Actually, yes."

Clearing his throat, Daniel tried to recover some of his decorum. "Have you figured out how it's fired?"

Sam held up a part that had what looked like a hand print in the middle of it. "I think this is the interface. But check this out," she said, eyes shining. She placed her hand on it, and the material the object was made from began to conform to her hand, reminding Daniel of an amoeba.

Daniel pushed his errant glasses up his nose. "That's amazing!"

"Now you try it," she said, pulling the part off her hand with a sucking sound. He watched as it retook it's generic shape, regaining its solid appearance. Sam picked up his left hand and placed it in the palm print. There was a sensation of heat as the piece formed itself to his hand.

"That's incredible!" he cried, turning his arm around, testing to see if the part would fall off, but it remained attached to him. Sam gently pulled, and the piece came off, once again becoming solid.

"I'm guessing the conformation is so whomever uses this weapon is fully integrated with it. It's a way of personalizing it." Daniel was still nodding in awe, thinking how valuable this material would be to make a suit of armor, adapting to anyone who wore it.

"I think it's fired like this," she said, pulling Daniel back to their present conversation. She flexed her fingers, pressing down with the pads of her finger tips. She started with one, then continued to add digits until all her fingers were pressed into the material. "I think the number of fingers increases the amount of energy output, but it's just a theory since I can't seem to make it work."

"Does it need the crystals or something?"

"No, they work in bigger constructs, like ships," she said, using a forceps to reach into the mechanical guts of the object. "This is the power source, and it looks fully charged."

Looking at the tube Sam held, it was glowing a phosphorescent green. He had to agree it looked active. "Then why do you suppose it won't turn on?"

Sam replaced the power cell. "I think it needs to be activated by someone who has the ATA gene."

"The what?"

She took a seat on the stool next to her bench. "It stands for Ancient Technology Activation gene. It was kind of a fail safe the Ancients built in to keep non-Ancients from using their technology." He must have looked confused, because she added, "some devices have to be used by an Ancient or one of their descendants, others simply need to be activated by someone who possesses the gene. Once it's activated, anyone can use it."

"Which do you think this is?"

Shaking her head, Sam looked up at him. "I can't say. My guess is this would just need to be 'jump started,' but I don't know for sure."

"So, we're back to square one," he sighed.

Sam looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together nervously. "I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

"I haven't liked very much about this situation," Daniel said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hit me."

"The ATA gene is extremely rare. As you can imagine, after centuries of interbreeding, the DNA has become quite diluted." She took a deep breath as if bracing herself. "I know someone who has the gene, and it's actually quite strong. The trouble is, he's a civilian."

Daniel mulled over the implications. He didn't like the thought of bringing in a civilian on this. Not only granting access to this project, but letting them into Area 51 and the SGC in general. "Is there a test for this gene? Couldn't we see if one of our own people has it?"

"You could test for it," she agreed, "But it'll take time, and you may not find anyone with it after your efforts. I'm fairly certain this person is a guarantee since they have the gene in my universe. You could test him yourself to make sure."

"He?" Daniel narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. He had an idea where this was going and he didn't like it.

"Jack O'Neill."

Damn, he hated when he was right. "As in the man you're living with?"

"As in the man who leads SG-1 in my reality. Look, I know he's not in the military here, but his sense of integrity is the same. He would never betray any organization he gave his word to. Any more than I would," she added, pointedly. "You took a chance on me, couldn't you find it within yourself to do the same for him?"

Daniel hadn't had much contact with the Jack O'Neill of the alternate reality he'd been sent to. All he knew of the man in that universe was he remained determined to save as many people possible before the Replicators took over Earth. He'd been unforgiving once a decision had been made, ensuring the greater good was served, even if it mean his own demise. Did this Jack have the same moral code? Sam seemed to think so. He'd only really known her about a day, and yet he _did_ trust her. Enough to place the fate of the planet in her hands. What was one more leap of faith?

"I'll take it up with the General," he said at length "Keep trying to get this thing to work."

**A/N**-Okay, I'm sure no one was surprised to hear Jack's name come up in their conversation. After all, I had to get him into the SGC somehow :-)!


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**23**

The door bell was ringing incessantly. Woken from an afternoon nap, Jack rolled over on his bed, waited a moment then yelled, "Charlie! Answer the door!" The bell rang again, forcing Jack to get up to do the task his son should have been able to do since he was downstairs anyway. Charging down the stairs, Jack saw Charlie sprawled on the couch, headphones turned up so loud Jack could hear tinny echos across the room.

"Charlie!" he shouted again, stalking over to the door where the bell had been depressed yet again. "What!" he bellowed, swinging the door open. Jack blinked in surprise at the sea of olive green standing on his porch.

"Kawalsky? What the. . .?"

"Hey, Jack," he said with a smirk. "Can we come in?" It took Jack a moment to process the fact his friend had stepped into his foyer.

"Oh, God," he mumbled. "It's Sam, isn't it? Something's happened to her!"

Kawalsky patted Jack's shoulder, reassuring him. "Sam's fine, but we need to talk. These are my team mates. Louis Ferretti, and Janet Fraiser." Jack merely nodded at the strangers.

Charlie, at last realizing something was going on, sat up, pulling the headphones out of his ears. "Uncle Charlie!" He was up in one smooth movement, crossing the floor to embrace his namesake. "What're you doing here?"

Kawalsky looked over at Jack as he placed his hand on the back of the boy's neck, shaking him lightly. "I need to talk to your dad. Think you can give us a few minutes?"

"Uh, sure. This is about Sam, isn't it? What happened to her? Why did you guys take her?"

Kawalsky exchanged a look with the two who'd accompanied him. "Were not the ones who took her. Look, she's fine. She told me to tell you not to worry."

"Then why isn't she coming home?"

"Charlie," Jack warned. "We'll talk later."

"Fine," he huffed, gathering his music player and textbook. "The kid is always the last to know." Charlie's footfalls could be heard on the stairs as Jack led the trio into the kitchen.

"Sound doesn't carry upstairs as much from here," he explained, taking a seat and motioning the others to have one as well. "So, what's this about?"

Ferretti stepped forward, brandishing a stack of papers and a pen. "If you'll just sign here, Mr. O'Neill, we can get started."

Taking the papers, Jack glanced at the heading. "Confidentiality agreement? I can't sign this not knowing what I'm getting into," he complained to Kawalsky.

"Then we can't talk to you about Sam," Charlie told him.

"Something _has_ happened, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but I can't talk about it until you sign the document," Kawalsky stressed. "Look, I promise it's okay. It's just a statement that anything you see, say or hear will remain confidential. You're not giving up your rights, what we're about to tell you can't become public knowledge." Jack continued to be skeptical. "Jack, I promise you on our friendship this is the right thing to do."

Weighing his options, Jack decided to take the outstretched papers. After all, Kawalsky wouldn't steer him wrong, but he wasn't so sure about the rest of the Army. After a quick perusal, he signed his name in the several places Ferretti pointed out. Once the man was satisfied, he nodded at Kawalsky.

"Let's start with what I actually do," Kawalsky began, taking a seat opposite Jack. "I work on a secret government project at Area 51. Our operation is called the Stargate Coalition."

Jack's head shot up. "The SGC?" The three newcomers looked among themselves, shocked.

"Yeah," Kawlsky said, "How did you know?"

"Sam talked about the place she used to work as being called the 'SGC' for Stargate Command." Jack looked at the people in his kitchen. From their reactions, he was getting the feeling it wasn't just some fantasy she'd dreamed up, and he felt his stomach drop. _It can't possibly be true. . . . "_So, what's this all about?"

Kawalsky was staring at him. "Why don't you tell us what you know."

Rubbing his hands over his face, Jack was undecided. If he told these three what Sam had admitted in confidence, his sins would be two-fold. One, that he'd violated her trust, and second feeling like an idiot for starting to believe some of the things she'd told him. "Most of what she told me was in confidence," he hedged.

"Under the circumstances, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you told us," Janet prompted.

"You expect me to keep your secrets. I think she deserves the same consideration."

Kawalsky smiled. "You make a good point. Okay, it would have saved us some time, but I'll tell you what _I_ know. Last November there was an incident at the SGC. A woman, Samantha Carter, came through our Stargate. Not only that, she came from an alternate universe. We didn't know any of this until a few days ago when the misplaced security footage ended up on Colonel Jackson's desk."

"Wait a second-_Daniel_ Jackson?"

"Uh, yeah. Do you know him?"

"We haven't met, but Sam talks about him a lot. He's _real?_ She talked about him being an archaeologist, what's he doing in the military?"

"It's one of the differences between this universe and hers," Ferretti interjected.

Jack got up and began pacing the room, running his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe this is real," he muttered to himself. If it hadn't been his best friend sitting there corroborating Sam's story, he never would have believed it. As it was, the evidence was stacking up and the bizarre story Sam had relayed was becoming increasingly factual.

Jack looked up, his gaze touching on each of them. "Why was she taken? What kind of secrets does she have?"

"We're not sure why Kinsey wanted her. We think it was because she breached our Stargate and he considers her a security risk. He's the one who had her picked up."

"Wait a second!" Jack cried. "_Kinsey?_ As in _Vice-President_ Kinsey?"

"Mr. O'Neill," Janet began. Her voice was calm, and he had the feeling she was trying to talk him down from a ledge.

"Call me 'Jack.'"

"Jack," she said, giving him a warm smile. "We need Major Carter to help us with a. . .problem. One her talents are particularly suited for. I promise you, she's no longer being held again her will."

"Major" Carter caught Jack's attention. How many times had she told him she'd been on a military team and he'd just humored her? Hell, he wasn't even sure he believed she was an astrophysicist most of the time, despite the things she knew. And the _Vice-President_ for cryin' out loud! No one he knew ran in those kinds of circles. Now to find out his best friend and girlfriend did?

"If she's not being held, why isn't she home, or why hasn't she called?"

"She's chosen to stay on the base to continue her work. She wants to call you, but thought we should talk to you first. Give you a bit of a heads-up," Janet informed.

"Oh, God, there's more?" Jack wasn't sure how much additional information he could take. His whole existence was coming unglued and starting to splinter.

"Apparently you figure into this," Kawalsky said.

"Me! How do I. . . .?" Jack realized he was practically shouting, and Charlie was no doubt upstairs straining to hear what was going on in the kitchen. Lowering his voice he said, "She told me I was the leader of her team where. . .where she comes from, but she couldn't possibly think I have the skills to lead some military team!"

The three soldiers exchanged amused glances, Kawalsky was chuckling when he clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Um, no. That's not quite what she has in mind. Look, I don't really get what makes you special either, but the big guns want you on the base for something. We're just the escort service."

"You're here to take me some where? Like Area 51? I can't leave! What about Charlie? What about my classes?"

"Let us handle the arrangements," Kawalsky tried to placate him as Jack's cell phone rang. Picking up the device, Jack saw Sam's ID displayed.

"Sam! Oh, thank God! Are you all right?"

_"I'm fine. God, Jack it's so good to hear your voice!"_

Jack closed his eyes, relief washing over him. "It's good to hear yours, too," he sighed. Moving into the living room to get what privacy he could, he asked, "When are you coming home?"

_"Aren't Kawalsky and the rest of SG-1 there? Haven't they explained things?" _

"Yeah, they're here, and they've tried to explain things, but I'm really not getting it. Why can't you come home? What do you need me for?"

_"Jack, you know I'd come home if I could, and I can't tell you over the phone why we need you." _

_We_, Jack thought. With this group for a day and it was already _We_. He knew she missed her old life, but was the one he'd offered her so bad? That she was trading it in first chance she got?

_"What I'm doing is important. You'll understand when you come here."_ One thing was for certain-she knew how to hook him. Sam knew his innate curiosity would get the better of him and he'd be leaving with the group seated in his kitchen.

"What am I supposed to do about Charlie?" There was a long silence, and Jack wondered if his son had even crossed her radar. She'd told him O'Neill had lost his son, so finding someone to watch out for the boy wouldn't have been an issue in her world.

Her world. With each passing second Jack felt as if he was losing Sam to some phantasmal existence he had no part of. Except she was reaching out to him, trying to bring him along. It was his choice. He could go with Kawalsky and his team, be a part of some greater cause, or stay here, becoming bitter Sam had chosen her destiny over him.

_"I'm not sure what to tell you, Jack_. _What about Mike?"_ Sam hadn't met Charlie's maternal grandfather, but knew he lived near by. Her suggestion was a good one; about the only option he would consider, actually.

"I'll talk to him. If we can work something out, I'll come. This better be big, Sam."

"_You have no idea_," she said, and Jack could hear the smile in her voice. That had to be a good sign, he figured. Turning his attention back to the entourage, he held the phone out so Sam could hear his answer to Kawalsky.

"Looks like we're going to Nevada."

**A/N—**We still have a lot of ground to cover, so I'm going to continue to post two chapters a day. Everyone's shown a remarkable commitment to this story and I appreciate your dedication! Chapter 24 later today.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**24**

Sam stood just inside the final check-point of the buildings comprising the Stargate Coalition. She'd been notified SG-1, along with Jack had just landed, and took time out from her experiments to greet her no doubt thoroughly confused. . . boyfriend.

Kawalsky was the first she spotted heading down the hall, with Jack on his heals. As soon as he caught sight of her, Jack pushed past the soldier, running up and hugging her so hard, Sam was wondering if he'd cracked a rib. Her arms came around him almost as tightly whispering, "Miss me?"

His response was to kiss her long and hard in front of everyone. As the chorus of wolf whistles penetrated her consciousness, Sam pulled back, realizing how unprofessional she was acting. She wasn't in this military, but her training was bone-deep. Public displays of affection was something she just didn't do, and she hoped Jack understood her pulling back.

"Cameras," she said in a low voice, nodding to the juncture of the ceiling and wall. Jack looked up, squeezing her hand in understanding, but he wouldn't relinquish her fingers.

Motioning them to keep moving, Kawalsky looked over at her. "Where's the General?"

"Conference room," Sam answered. "He and the Colonel were called there once we'd heard you'd touched down." Kawalsky nodded, taking a right at the next corridor.

Jack was looking around and noticed the colored lines on the cement floor. "Bread crumbs?" he asked, and she smiled. It had only been three days and she felt like it had been weeks since she'd seen him. His goofy humor went a long way to restoring her after the encounter with Samuels.

"More or less." Sam squeezed his fingers back affectionately, basking in his relaxed grin. She was storing up Jack's good mood, because she wasn't sure what his reaction was going to be once he knew the whole story. "Charlie okay?"

"He will be. He didn't understand why I had to go off with Kawalsky and the gang. He was rightly a little worked up when first you disappeared with the Army and then I was going with them as well. Mike was bursting with questions too, but to his credit, he just assured me he'd take good care of Charlie." Jack walked in silence for a few steps then turned to her. "Can I call or text him? Let him know I'm okay, you're okay?"

Sam thought for a moment. "That's the General's decision, but I think he'll allow it if you use the base phone so it's a secure line."

"All this super-secret stuff is new for me. Is this how it always is? Your SGC I mean?" It felt odd to be talking to him about the Stargate program and Jack actually wanting to hear the answers. She hadn't been under any delusions he _really_ believed what she'd told him, but contented herself that he didn't call her a loon any longer.

"If you mean that security is a high priority, then yeah. Really, I should never have told you a thing about the Stargate. I think my only defense is I was talking about the one from my universe and not the one here."

"That's splitting hairs."

"I hope the powers that be are willing to do that," she said. At the moment, Sam wasn't concerned with what disciplinary action the higher-ups would dish out. She was tasked to come up with a planetary defense against the Replicators. And to tell Jack he most likely had a rare gene that could make or break the whole deal. She wasn't sure which was going to be more difficult.

Kawalsky opened the door to the conference room, causing Daniel and Jacob to look up. "General, Colonel," he addressed the men. "This is Jack O'Neill." They both stood, offering him their hands. Jack shook Daniel's, eyeing him critically, then nodded.

"And this is General Carter," Sam pointedly said. Her hands were clasped behind her back and Sam found she was nervously rocking on the balls of her feet.

Jack looked between herself and Jacob. "Dad?" he asked, shaking the man's hand, looking astonished.

"Not exactly," Jacob said, retaking a seat and motioning them all to have one as well. "I thought he was brought up to speed," he said, directing his gaze at Kawalsky.

"Mostly, sir. There were a few finer points we didn't cover."

Jack turned to Sam, "Like your Dad being here!"

Sam tried to keep her voice low. "He's not actually my father."

"Close enough!" Jack whispered none-to-quietly.

Jacob leaned back in his chair, hands folded across his stomach. "I'm not really interested in what your relationship is with Samantha," he said. "so long as you don't abuse her trust, we'll get along just fine. Shall we get on to the business at hand?"

Sam watched Jack start to fiddle with the papers before him, his gaze locked tight on them. She was so used to seeing O'Neill calling the shots, it was a bit unnerving to see him unsure. She gave Jack a reassuring smile and pushed away from the table.

"In the past day or so you've probably heard the term 'Ancient' either from myself, or Colonel Jackson. It refers not only to a race of people we believe seeded Earth, millions of years ago, but their technology as well. The Ancients were the builders of the Stargates, and when a deadly plague nearly wiped them out, they their city-ship Atlantis with them to the Pegasus galaxy, where they continued to evolve. The majority of their population chose to ascend-move onto a higher plane of existence-but a fair number of them returned to Earth, joining with the local populations."

Sam looked around the room to see if she'd lost anyone, and surprisingly, Jack seemed to be following her explanation. Janet looked up from the papers in front of her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

"If these people were so advanced, why did they choose to come back to a much more primitive Earth?"

It was a question she'd pondered herself on more than one occasion. "I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "Perhaps it was altruistic-wanting to help a budding society take the steps necessary to move forward. Maybe it was to protect the technology that had been left here-the Stargate for example-from falling into the wrong hands. I just don't know. We may never know. But one thing we are sure of, they interbred with the Humans of Earth."

"How do you know that?" Jack asked.

Sam gave him a broad grin. "Funny you should ask that." She fell just short of calling him "sir," feeling the word practically itching on her tongue. "Naturally their genetic material would mingle with the Humans of Earth. If you'll look at the packets before you, you'll see a representation of Human DNA. Ninety-eight percent of Humans on Earth have this form of DNA."

"What about the other two percent?" Ferretti questioned.

Sam shuffled to the next sheet with a similar picture. "They have some form of the ATA gene, or Ancient Technology Activation gene." She pointed to the circled area on her copy. "There is a peptide here on their DNA and it's what actually sets these carriers apart, making them capable of activating, and using Ancient technology."

Janet was studying her sheets intently, then looked up at Sam. "That would be such a minute deviation, you'd really have to be looking for it-specifically testing for it to even find it."

"Exactly," Sam said. "People who possess this gene don't even know they have it, and it doesn't show up on routine blood tests. It's just a slight 'edge' if you will. Like the ability to produce extra melanin to protect against sunburn."

"Is it specific to one racial group?" Janet asked.

"No. It can show up in any population, and as I said, a person can go their entire life and not realize they have it. You can test for it, or see if someone can turn on something of Ancient origin." Sam looked over at Jack who was finally connecting the dots.

"Wait a second! That's why _I'm_ here? You think _I've_ got this thing living inside me?"

"It's not 'living' inside you like some parasite, it _is_ you. Part of who you are. Like having brown eyes, an aptitude for hockey or anything else you have a natural talent for." Sam hoped she was getting through to him because he looked like she'd just told him he was radioactive. Why didn't he see this as the advantage it was?

Sam took her seat, turning to lightly touch him on the arm. "I don't know for a fact you have the gene, but Colonel O'Neill has it. The chances your genetic make up matches his is greater than not. Just see if you can activate the device in my lab. If you can, we'll go from there."

_He looks scared_, she thought. She couldn't blame him. This had all been a lot to take in, and she wasn't sure how well he was at adapting to new situations. Colonel O'Neill pushed "weird" to the back of his mind to get the job at hand done. Sam suspected it was after missions he actually analyzed what he'd encountered and made peace with it. Or not. Jack didn't have that kind of expertise. "Weird" wasn't normal for him. At least until he'd met her.

"All right," he agreed, gazing intently into her eyes. Sam knew he was doing this for her. If anyone else at the table had asked, she didn't see him being so amenable.

Sam smiled her gratitude at him, squeezing his arm tighter. "General? With your permission I'd like to move this meeting to my lab so we can determine if Jack can make the object work."

Nodding his head, Jacob stood. "Agreed." Sam's gaze met the general's and she barely smothered a grin. He had the same look on his face her father used to give her. The one that said: _you better not be wasting my time._

Daniel and the rest of SG-1 were following slightly behind, talking among themselves, leaving Sam, Jack and Jacob walking side-by-side. No one spoke, and sandwiched between the two men, Sam could feel the tension rolling off each. Jacob's protective and distrustful, Jack's nervous at the presence of her almost -father. She wished she could shake the both of them.

Fortunately, they'd arrived at the lab, pushing any confrontations from Sam's mind. Looking up at the disruption, Bill and Chloe almost stood at attention as the group crowded the smallish workspace.

Sam stepped up to her work bench, showing Jack the still non-operational device. She'd put it back together in anticipation of his having a look at it, but she still couldn't make it work.

"This is it?" Jack asked, moving forward. He didn't touch it, but looked at it from several sides. "What's it do?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell us."

Jack continued to inspect the device without touching it. Finally he shrugged. "I got nothin'."

"Touch it, Jack!" Kawalsky yelled at him. "It's what we dragged you here for!"

Looking back at his friend, Jack flexed his fingers, as if he was about to sit down to a piano. Tentatively, he touched the object which remained as inert as it had been.

"Nope. Nothing," Jack said. "Guess I don't have this gene thingy after all. Sorry you brought me all this way. I suppose I'll be going now. . . ." He turned to leave but Daniel caught him by the shoulders, forcing him back around.

"Put your arm inside."

"All the way inside?" Jack's eyes were wide, looking at the device as if it was a shark ready to take his arm off. Sighing, Daniel pushed past him and put the gauntlet over his arm.

"Like this." He pulled is arm out and thrust it towards Jack. "You're turn."

"It doesn't weigh very much," Jack commented, and cautiously slid his hand in. Daniel held the barrel and pushed Jack's arm at the elbow, forcing it into the device.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed. "It's like it's conforming to my hand or something!"

"That keeps it from falling off," Daniel told him. Everyone looked to see if anything else was happening, but so far, nothing was.

"Try wiggling your fingers," Sam suggested. Suddenly, the object sprang to life, causing everyone to take a step back, including Jack, despite the fact he was bringing the device with him. After a moment, his trepidation turned to delight.

"This is _really_ cool!" he pronounced, touching different spots on the exterior which lit up at his contact.

"I wonder what it is," Janet spoke from the back of the group.

Jack was examining more of the details and off-handedly answered, "It's a disrupter."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just do. Just sort of came to me." He slid it off his arm and handed it to Ferretti. "It should work for any of you now. It just needed to be turned on."

Sam stared at him in complete fascination. "What?" he asked, looking around at the band surrounding him, equally shocked.

"No doubt about it," she confirmed. "You've got the gene." Sam was thrown for a moment, then started asking questions. "What did it feel like? How did you know what it was called? Was the information in your brain like a memory or something else?"

Jack took her by the shoulders. "Easy, Tiger. We'll get to that." Turning to the senior Carter he asked, "General, I'd like to call my son, if that's possible. Let him know everything is okay."

Jacob considered for a moment, then agreed. "I can't tell you how long this is going to take," he said. "That's up to you and the major."

"Understood. Sam? Can you come with me? Talk to Charlie for a minute?" She wanted nothing more than to play with her newly-activated toy, but she knew how much it would mean to Charlie to hear her voice.

"Of course." Turning to SG-1 she said. "Maybe you guys can take the 'disrupter' to the firing range and see what it can do. I'll bring Jack by when we're done." Sam watched them filing out of the lab. She was already anticipating going through the storeroom with Jack, wondering what other Ancient technology she and Daniel had missed.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**25**

Jack looked around the storage area, mouth dropping open in awe. "Holy. . . ."

"Yeah," Sam smiled at him. "I had pretty much the same reaction. I've been to Area 51, before I took up universe hopping, and we don't have nearly this much stuff."

"Maybe it's stored in more places on your Earth," he said, coming up behind her. Sam was looking around the room and jumped when Jack slid his arms around her waist.

"Jack! What are you doing?"

"Taking advantage of a moment of privacy," he said, pulling her back against his chest. He kissed the outer shell of her ear, feeling her shiver and he smiled, dipping his head down to kiss the base of her neck.

"Jaaack," she moaned. "We're not alone. The cameras. . . ."

He nuzzled the hair at the back of her neck and she let out another contented sigh. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you?" he mumbled against her skin. "I was going crazy. It felt more like months instead of days."

"I know," she nodded. "I really missed you, too."

"Show me," he said, turning her around to kiss her. She kissed him back, but he could tell she wasn't as invested as he was. Gently, she pushed him away.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I just can't do this here. We're on a military base and I'm too much of a soldier to have a quickie among the stacks."

"Who said anything about it being quick?" he grinned at her. Sam smiled back at him, but he could see how seriously she took this. "Okay," he said, releasing her. "But just so you know, Samantha is a lot more fun than Major Carter."

"You'll get no argument from me."

"You could make it up to me," he teased. "Show me where they keep the alien bodies."

Sam placed her hands on her hips. "You know perfectly well there's no aliens here." She waited a moment, then totally serious added, "They're on Orilla." Taking his hand, she led him down an aisle. "Let me know if anything looks familiar."

"Like I would know what you're after? Sam, up until a few hours ago I was drilling the periodic table into brain dead teenagers. I wouldn't know Ancient technology if it bit me in the as. . .hello." He stopped dead in front of what looked to be a big arm chair. "Nice recliner."

"You recognize it?" she asked, the excitement in her voice was unmistakeable. Jack stared at the chair and the platform it rested on. Something about it was "speaking" to him, he realized. Not literally, but it was like he knew what it was. As if it was something he'd known as a child and hadn't seen in a very long time.

His voice was hushed. "I think I know this."

"You do? How do you. . .?"

"I don't know how. It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite reach it." He couldn't put the feeling into words any more than he could tell her what it did. Stepping forward, Jack put his hand on the arm of the chair. It seemed to be made of the same conforming material the interior of the weapon was, and without a second thought, he climbed up the platform it rested on, and he took a seat.

"Jack! What are you doing? What if. . ."

"It's okay. I know this. . . ." he repeated. Jack settled into the chair as the outer material took shape around his body. He found himself questioning how to make it work, when suddenly a light flashed on the platform.

Sam took a step back. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking about how to turn it on, and that light flashed." As he spoke another section illuminated.

"I think it responds to thought commands!" Sam cried. "Try something else, like turning the chair to the right." Concentrating on moving the chair, Jack was surprised to see the entire chair start to glow the same nearly florescent green the disrupter had. He wondered if the chair would spin all the way around and suddenly found himself rotating in a circle, faster than he's anticipated.

"Stop!" he called out, and the chair came to an immediate halt. "This is so awesome!"

Sam was smiling indulgently, shaking her head. "Does it do anything besides act as a carnival ride for you?"

"It feels weak," he said.

"Weak?"

Again, he was hard pressed to put the feeling into words. "Yeah, weak. Like its batteries are low or something."

"That could be entirely possible. I mean who knows how long it's been since whatever 'this' is has been activated."

Jack continued to check out his ride. "A long time," he said. "That much I know for sure. I get the sense when it's fully charged it harnesses a huge amount of energy. I just don't know what for." He was lost in thought for a moment, then looked up at Sam. "Wanna try it?"

"Yeah, I do." He vacated his seat and Sam slid in. Nothing happened.

"Try pushing some of the buttons on the arm," he advised. "Or think about moving it one way or the other." The chair sat immobile, not a single light coming on. "Maybe I drained the batteries. Let me try again." Jack retook his position and immediately several lights came on.

"This must be one of the devices you have to have the gene to operate," Sam observed. "You're probably right about it being powerful. It seems it's only the most dangerous technologies the Ancients felt they needed to 'lock out'."

"So, do you think it's some kind of weapon?" he speculated.

Sam looked like she was still sifting through information. "I think it's a good possibility."

"Come over here," he commanded.

"What?"

"Just come over here, will you?" Sighing, Sam stepped closer.

"What?" she asked again, but she had a playful smirk on her face, reading him well enough to know he was up to something. He grabbed her around the waist and swung her up onto his lap, producing a squeal along the way.

"That is _so_ not a noise a Major should be making," he grinned as he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna go for a ride?" Before she could answer, Jack thought at the chair to turn left, then right then all the way around. Sam's hands gripped his shoulders in an effort to hang on, but Jack slowed down the rate of their rotation, kissing her again.

Sam's eyes were shining with mischief. "Did you miss the part about me not wanting to do this on a military base?"

"Technically, this is a storeroom. Isn't that what people do? Sneak off to the storeroom for a rendezvous?"

Sam craned her neck around. "I'm not seeing any janitorial supplies. I think that's a prerequisite."

"I'm sure there's Ancient toilet paper around here somewhere."

Sam couldn't stifle a laugh. "You're impossible, but it's why I love you." She wound her arms tighter around his neck and kissed him back, long, slow and sweet. It was an odd place to have an epiphany, but at that moment, in the middle of a vast storeroom, Jack realized nothing had ever felt so right as being with her.

Sam lay her head on his shoulder, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "You haven't heard the whole story," she admitted quietly.

"There's more? Don't tell me I have super powers as well. Just so you know-I look really crappy in tights." She barely cracked a wan smile as she rubbed her palm over his chest. Sitting up, Sam looked him in the eyes, all business once more.

"The reason we need you to make the Ancient technology work is there's an alien force headed for Earth. We think they could arrive any day now. That's the reason the SGC wanted me. Apparently Daniel had been to an alternate reality of his own, and the Samantha Carter of that universe built some kind of weapon and saved the planet. Maybe it was based on Ancient technology she'd discovered there, I don't know. When Daniel recognized me on the security footage, he thought I could construct a similar device here. The only trouble is, I don't know how she did it. She obviously had encountered something or someone I haven't in order to build such a defense."

"Alien force, headed for Earth, you say?" She was starting to sound as irrational as she had when he'd met her.

"They're called Replicators," she continued, ignoring his sarcasm. "They're comprised of individual blocks that work together to make up whatever shape they need. Their purpose is to consume matter and to replicate, and they'll use any means necessary to accomplish that goal."

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that. _Prove it?_ It sounded ridiculous, but was it any more outlandish than finding out he had something in his body that let him turn on fantastical devices? He had more than enough to wrap his head around with the whole gene thing. He wasn't sure he could add the Replicators to the list as well.

"Come on," she said, getting off his lap and offering him a hand up. "I've got some inert blocks in my lab and the video from when Reese, their creator, was here. It'll help explain things better."

**A/N-**Chapter 26 later today.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N—**Okay, hopefully the science doesn't seem totally contrived, but Damnit, Jim! I'm a baker not an astrophysicist!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**26**

Daniel was securing the last of the clips on his vest when he looked up to see Sam in the doorway of the locker room.

"I want to come with you," she said. "You need my help with the Replicators."

"Yes, we do," Daniel admitted, slipping on fingerless gloves. "Which is why you're staying here."

"Daniel. . .I mean Colonel, you need my help out there. I've got more experience with the Replicators than anyone on your team, I've been. . ."

"Sam, you're preaching to the choir, here. _I_ want you out there with us as well, but you've been expressly excluded from this mission."

Sam crossed her arms over her chest. "By whom?"

"Kinsey," he growled. "He gave us permission to use the 'gate for recon under the proviso you would remain on the base. Apparently he still sees you as a threat."

"He keeps this up, I will be," she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

Daniel squelched a grin. "Take a number, Major. He's never been popular here." He finished checking his gear, then looked up, meeting her gaze. "The best way you can help us is to come up with something we can use against the Replicators. The resources of this entire base are at your disposal. Just see that you keep that guy of yours in check."

Sam clasped her hands behind her back, standing straighter. "Yes, sir." She didn't move off as he expected. "Was there something else?"

Looking a bit sheepish, Sam asked, "Would it be all right if I saw you off?"

Daniel smiled at her. "Miss seeing the Stargate in action?"

She colored slightly. "Yes, sir. Would it be okay if Jack. . . .?"

Grabbing his pack, Daniel was losing patience. "Sure! Why not? Anyone else you'd like to invite? Maybe your lab assistants?" Sam just shook her head. "Good. We leave in five."

XXXXXX

Sam and Jack were in the 'gate room a full minute before the arrival of SG-1. Looking over at her, he asked, "You sure it's okay with everyone that I'm here for this?"

"Daniel said it was fine. Just stand back and don't say anything and he'll probably forget we're here." Almost on cue, the blast door to the hallway slid back and the majority of SG-1 entered the room. Ferretti and Kawalsky were checking their weapons and supply of ammo, while Janet slid on her pack, looking around for Daniel. Sam couldn't help smiling at the thought that no matter what universe she was in, Daniel always ended up being the last one to arrive.

Daniel rushed into the 'gate room, instantly taking charge. "Last minute instructions from the general," he told his team. "Ready?" Everyone nodded and the colonel looked over at Sam. "Major Carter? Would you care to do the honors?" he asked, gesturing towards the DHD.

Sam realized it was Daniel's way of apologizing for his earlier surly behavior, and she gladly accepted it. Pulling Jack with her, she took her place behind the DHD. "Do you have the address for Hala?"

Janet pulled a folded sheet of paper from her vest pocket, handing it to Sam.

"Those symbols? That tells you where to send them?" Jack asked.

Sam nodded and started pushing the gyphs carved on the device. She looked up at Jack. "Want to push the last one?" Jack's eyes were already large with wonder and she smiled at his awe. "The one that looks kind of like an 'A' with the circle on top," she said, letting him find it on the inner circle. He depressed it, then she pushed the center orange globe. "Watch this," she said, waiting for the wormhole to surge out of the 'gate.

"Holy shit!" he cried, unconsciously moving backwards.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she grinned at his reaction, remembering her first sight of the Stargate. Daniel called for his team to move out as Jack watched, disbelieving as the event horizon swallowed SG-1 member by member.

Stopping just shy of entering the 'gate, Daniel turned to look back at them. "Hold down the fort."

Sam gave him a reassuring smile. "Will do." She couldn't resist a send off from her own universe: "Good luck and Godspeed, SG-1."

XXXXXX

Sam was bent over her work bench, disrupter parts spread all over the table. If she could understand how the parts interacted, maybe she could make something on a larger scale, as the other Samantha had done. Too bad Daniel hadn't been able to bring back any notes from the other universe.

Looking up, she could see Jack was bored with the meticulous disassembly, and wished he'd stop fiddling with each new part laid on the table. She couldn't exactly send him off to go find something else to do when he hadn't been authorized to move around the base. Like it or not, she was his babysitter and that in itself could be a full time job.

"Major Carter?" Bill asked. "Do you think you could take a look at this?" He had the circular object opened up, to reveal, well, nothing, Sam decided. It was hollow. There was some type of circuitry in four areas, equidistant from each other, but no wires connecting anything.

"I was expecting something a little more. . .complicated," Bill confessed.

Sam touched the interior of the ring. "It feels like glass," she noted.

"It's definitely metal," Bill affirmed. "Do you suppose this is just a component of something else? That it needs another piece or pieces?"

"Maybe." Sam looked over at Jack who'd stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

Chloe stepped over to the group and observed, "Kind of reminds me of the Large Hadron Collider. Only on a smaller scale." Bill and Sam stared at her, and she shifted nervously. "I had a tour a few weeks ago," she explained, still unsettled by their scrutiny.

"A mini-Large Hadron Collider!" Bill exclaimed. "That could be it!"

Jack leaned over Sam's shoulder. "Mini-Large? Isn't that an oxymoron like jumbo shrimp?"

"Shhh," Sam slapped the hand he was reaching towards the object. Redirecting her attention to Bill, she said, "You know, it really _could_ be. A particle accelerator works on the theory that when atoms are smashed at near light speed, incredible amounts of energy are released. What if that's what this is? A way the Ancients used sub-atomic energy to power their technology?"

Bill was catching her enthusiasm. "The Hadron Collider is nearly seventeen miles long. This has to be immensely powerful to have been miniaturized to this size. Frankly, it's hard to believe."

"From what I've observed, it takes that kind of energy to power most Ancient constructs. I don't know that it would be enough for a ship, but maybe a small vessel like a one or two seat space vehicle," she speculated.

"Or a weapon," Chloe added. The three scientists stood around the table, nodding, each lost in their own theories.

"Maybe it works on the chair," Jack supplied. Three sets of eyes landed their gazes on him. "What? It was just a thought."

Sam felt a thrill race through her. She'd never been able to explain it to herself, much less anyone else, but it was almost like a premonition. How something felt to her just before a theory proved to be correct. Like when she'd come up with the idea for the particle accelerator that led to Colonel O'Neill's eventual rescue from Eudora. In fact, the principles were similar, she realized.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand, pulling him along behind her. The chair had been moved to an adjacent room to make it easier to study, and Sam needed Jack's input. Standing in front of the chair, she directed him to look for any place the object might interface.

"I'm guessing you'll have better luck than me, since I can't turn it on." Still, Sam crawled along the floor, moving her hands over the base, concentrating on the section that had illuminated with Jack's thoughts. He, in turn was looking at the chair itself. While lights lit up here and there, there still wasn't any indication of where a power source would attach.

Sam stood, huffing out a frustrated sigh. "It shouldn't be this difficult to find. Everything else about their technology seems to be based on simplicity. User-friendly. Well, for those of you who have the gene," she grinned at him.

Jack climbed into the chair, closing his eyes "What are you doing?" she questioned.

"Asking where the battery compartment is," he replied. Sam thought he was trying to be funny, until a panel on the backside of the chair slid aside, and a circular housing rose out of the compartment. At her astonished look, he shrugged. "You said it should be easy."

"I didn't expect it would be _that_ easy," she said. Jack stepped down out of the chair and came around to look at what he'd opened.

"It looks like your mini-doughnut will fit in there. Should we try it?"

Sam was just as anxious as he was to test their theories, but she interjected some caution. "First we have to reassemble it and see if we can figure out how it works in conjunction with the chair. It could take some time. Meanwhile, I need to get the disrupter put back together."

"I thought you wanted to see what makes it tick so you could apply it to a more wide-spread device."

Sam was impressed he'd been paying attention. Jack definitely had more patience with "doohickies" than the Colonel did. "I think I have what I need. Plus, if the Replicators show up, I don't want our one defense spread all over my work table."

"Maybe I can give you a hand? I was trying to watch as you took it apart." Again, Sam found herself blinking in disbelief. The thought O'Neill would volunteer such a service would have been unheard of in her universe.

"Uh, yeah," she answered dumbly. "That would be great."

XXXXXX

SG-1 was overdue. Sam glanced at the clock, which seemed eternally locked in place. She and Jack had put the disrupter together, and tested it. Satisfied it was in working order, they turned their attention to the collider. It needed to be reassembled, but Bill was dragging his feet, claiming he wanted to study the design in greater detail. Sam was losing her patience.

"Bill, you can study it later. Right now we need to know if it'll function as a power source."

"How are we going to know if it'll work if we don't know _how_ it works," he argued. "It wasn't working earlier."

"We don't know that. It might be that it too needs the gene to activate. Jack hasn't tried touching it."

"Because you wouldn't let me," Jack mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear.

Sam ignored his comment and tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. "So let's get it put back together and see if Jack can make it run."

Clearly, Bill didn't like being told what to do, but she could also see he had no idea what the Replicators were capable of. She knew he'd seen the recording of Reese-everyone had so they knew what they were up against-but the footage showed only the most elementary stages of Replicator development. They hadn't seen how the hive mentality of the mechanical bugs pushed them to incorporate higher technologies to further their evolution.

At that, Sam realized they had to protect the Ancient tech at all costs. Even now the Replicators had probably advanced so far beyond Earth-based science, it would be of no use to them. However, if they assimilated Ancient devices, they truly would have no way of stopping them.

"Bill, we don't have time to argue about this. We have to be ready, and we can't allow any of this," she gestured around the lab, "To fall to the Replicators. SG-1 is late which can't be a good sign. Time's up. I think the invasion is on it's way."

Jack looked at her, shocked at her pronouncement. "Really? All ready?"

"Jack, they've had over a year to modify themselves and believe me, they can upgrade that fast. I'm sure it wasn't Daniel's intent to alert them by going to Hala, but if the Replicators encountered SG-1, their presence would have been like poking a stick into a hornet's nest."

At that moment, the alert of, "Offworld activation!" echoed throughout the base, sirens wailing. Jack's panicked gaze met hers and she did her best to reassure him.

"Stay here in the lab; it'll be the safest place in the complex." Sam picked up the disrupter, heading for the door when she turned back to see Jack frozen in the middle of the room. It was totally against her training, but she returned to him, kissing him soundly. Running her hand along his cheek and jaw, she kissed him again, quickly this time. "I love you," she whispered, then turned to go, but he caught her hand, pulling her into a fierce hug.

"I love you too."

She squeezed him back, then pushed away. "I have to go."

"Sam! Be careful. . . ."

She nodded. "Bill! Get that damn thing put back together!" And she was out the door.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**A/N—**A question has been raised if "Chlole" is the same character from Stargate Universe. She isn't. This Chloe was Jay Felger's assistant/love interest in "The Other Guys" and "Avenger 2.0". Sorry for any confusion.

**27**

Sam skidded to a halt outside the 'gate room only to be locked out by the blast door. She'd been given permission to move about the SGC, but her key card didn't access the most secure areas of the base. Inside, she could hear weapons fire, and Daniel's muffled shouts of "Fall back!" but she couldn't get in to help them. The monitor on the wall showed the action in the 'gate room, and it didn't look good. Replicator bugs were everywhere, and for every one they blew apart with their guns, the blocks reassembled themselves into smaller creatures, each intent on attacking the Humans.

They were making it worse, Sam realized, causing the Replicators to multiply rather than destroying them. Daniel must have seen the effect and called for his team to hold their fire. Forced to watch in horror as the bugs corralled SG-1 into a corner, Sam stood, locked out, with the one weapon that could save them.

Banging impotently on the door, Sam knew it was unlikely anyone in the 'gate room would hear her, much less be able to move to let her in. There had to be an intercom somewhere where she could get someone with clearance to open the damn door! As she was searching for an interface, a troop of soldiers rushed up behind her, rifles poised to shoot anything that moved.

"Hold your fire!" she called out. "Does anyone have access to the 'gateroom?" A lieutenant broke ranks, brandishing a card then swiping it through the lock. "Continue to hold your fire!" Sam ordered. "Shooting them only makes them reproduce!" She nodded to the lieutenant to slide the door open, and rolled around the opening with the disrupter armed and ready to fire. "Close the door!"

The situation inside was even worse than it had looked on the monitor. Replicators were crawling the walls, continually pouring out of the 'gate. She had to get the wormhole shut down, but in order to do that, she had to get to the DHD. Firing the disrupter to clear a path, She concentrated on kicking inert blocks out of the way of the ever advancing bugs, knowing they would retrieve their fallen comrades, reincorporating them once more.

"Hang tight!" she called to the team being held hostage. "I've got to get the wormhole shut down!" A wave of Replicators swarmed over the ceiling, raining down on her as she made it to the DHD, slamming her palm on the central orange globe. Sam allowed herself a second of relief, even as she felt bugs starting to swarm her. Most of them were small, reminding her of ants. Their bites weren't deadly, but certainly distracting, and she had to fight the urge to wipe them away in favor of shooting the larger, more dangerous metal insects.

Aiming the disrupter at the team in the corner, Sam discharged the weapon, causing the Replicators to lose their cohesion, falling down around SG-1 like metallic snow. any bit of motion caused Sam to turn and fire, until at last the 'gate room was silent as the sound of tinkling of Replicator blocks faded away.

Daniel was breathing hard. "Thanks, Sam. I owe you one."

"We all owe you one," Kawalsky added, equally breathless.

Relaxing the arm wielding the disrupter, Sam noted, "I'm guessing things didn't go quite as planned."

"They were waiting for us," Janet said. "Maybe not us specifically, but certainly some incursion."

"There were bugs everywhere," Ferretti said, a shiver running through him. Picking up his discarded rifle he added, "The ground looked like it was alive there were so many of them."

Daniel turned to look at her, defeat clearly etched on his features. "They've got ships, Sam. We saw them flying overhead. So huge, I've never seen anything like it. I don't know how we're going to be able to fight them off. Even if you had time to construct a giant disrupter, it wouldn't be enough to protect the entire planet."

Sam felt the energy draining from her. They had to try something. She wasn't about to roll over and invite the Replicators to have Earth for a snack, but she had no idea what to try next.

XXXXXX

Daniel stepped into the conference room, surprised at the dignitaries assembled. _Of course, this is where high-ranking individuals would be_, he realized. With invasion imminent, they would be using the Stargate to evacuate essential people to the barely established Alpha Site.

"Colonel Jackson! Report!" Jacob ordered, looking surprisingly calm despite the circumstances. Sam entered the room behind him, brought up short by the crowd standing around the conference table.

"Where's my team?" Daniel asked.

"Ferretti should be right behind me. I left Kawalsky, Fraiser and SG-3 to hold the 'gate. The Replicators keep dialing in and there's no defense against more bugs swarming the base. Kawalsky has the disrupter," she added.

Daniel relayed events to the continually growing group in the conference room. Some were military, some civilian, but few looked anything but shocked. Even the hardened military leaders were hard pressed to keep up an impassive front. Noticing Kinsey had managed to secure himself a spot in the group, Daniel scanned the crowd for the President.

"Where's Hayes?" he asked, certain the President should go through the 'gate before any of his underlings.

"He won't budge," General Schwartz said. "He said he doesn't deserve to leave when the American public doesn't have the same option." Daniel looked pointedly at Kinsey, who obviously felt he did deserve special treatment.

Kinsey shifted uneasily on his feet at the sudden attention. "The President authorized me to co-ordinate things on the other side," he said, glaring back at Daniel.

"We'll send as many people through as we can," Jacob said, ending the budding argument between the two men. "I have the exodus plan here," he said, holding up a folder. "I'm not sure how long we can sustain a stable wormhole. . ."

"Excuse me, General," Sam interrupted. "We've found we can keep a wormhole active for thirty-eight minutes. But that also means an incoming wormhole has the same parameters." At his confused look, Sam elaborated. "If the Replicators are dialing in, we can't dial out."

"And how is it the Replicators are dialing our Stargate?" One of the military men in the back asked.

"I believe it's Reese," Daniel volunteered. "She's the one orchestrating this attack. It's her need for vengeance that has precipitated this invasion." Feeling Kinsey's eyes on him, Daniel readied himself for a fight. He knew this was the crux of the Vice-President's allegations against the SGC and he was sure Kinsey would use this opportunity to drive his point home.

Before Kinsey could get going, the same questioner asked Sam, "And you are. . . .?"

"Major Samantha Carter," she replied. "I'm on. . .special assignment here. The important thing is, we have to get an outgoing wormhole established before the Replicators can dial back in. Which means we have," she looked at her watch, "fifteen minutes before we can try again. The first wave of evacuees has to be ready to go by then."

Jacob nodded and started forming groups, handing out protective gear to the assembly. "SG teams four through six will go first to secure the area on the Alpha Site. Be warned, we haven't been able to get much more than a base of operations established. Conditions will be crude, but there are provisions for several weeks."

The general continued with his instructions to the group as Daniel turned to Sam. "Grab a vest and take a radio. I'm going to need your help holding the base. Also, you might want to let your guy and those scientists know what's going on and what to expect. I don't think I have to tell you, things aren't looking too good at the moment." Sam nodded.

Daniel watched her gear up, wishing she'd been a part of their program from the beginning. Maybe this whole situation could have been avoided if she'd been a part of their encounter with Reese. Maybe the outcome would have been the same. He'd never know for sure, but having Sam's help for just a day or two had already made a difference. Even that O'Neill guy seemed to have something to offer, he realized. He couldn't imagine him on a front-line team, but frankly, until he'd seen Sam in action, he would have doubted her abilities as well.

XXXXXX

Jack looked up from his pacing as the sirens ceased their incessant whine. That had to be a good sign, right? He exchanged glances with the two scientists who seemed as surprised as he did.

"Is that it?" he wondered aloud. Bill and Chloe looked at each other, then over at him.

"This is my first time working for the Army," Chloe confessed. "I don't know what happens next."

"In any of the scenarios they've run, they make a full sweep of the facility, and if things are okay, release the base from lockdown," Bill said, but he appeared even more agitated than Chloe. "I hate the thought that I'm trapped here. I'm kind of claustrophobic," he admitted, swiping an arm across his damp brow.

"It sounds like you don't want to be outside anyway," Jack said, wondering if there really were Replicators crawling the base. God, he wished he could talk to Charlie! He wouldn't say anything to the boy, mostly because he didn't want him to worry, but he wanted to hear his voice. If these Replicators were as insidious as Sam made them out to be, there wasn't a place anywhere on Earth that was safe. If this truly was the end, he wanted to be with his son. His son and Sam.

The door to the lab slid back, revealing a partially geared up Sam, and Jack had the incongruous thought of how incredibly hot she looked in combat attire. Something had to be wrong with him to be getting turned on at a time like this!

"Jack!" She called, rushing over to him, motioning Bill and Chloe closer as well. "The base was invaded by Replicators," she stated matter-of-factly, holding up her hand to forestal the questions. "They came through the wormhole as SG-1 retreated through the 'gate." She took a breath and continued. "The disrupter took care of the Replicators that had come through with them, but since then, they've been able to keep an established connection between Earth and their base."

"What does that mean?" Chloe asked.

"It means we can't dial out. Which means we can't send our evacuees to the Alpha Site."

"So, we're trapped here?" Bill's voice was unnaturally high, and sweat was popping out again on his face.

"You're in the safest part of the complex," Sam reassured him. "What about the collider? Do you have it put back together?"

Bill gave her a sheepish look. "Not exactly."

"Well get it exactly!" She ordered. "We need that power source if we have to destroy the base!" Now Bill looked seriously pale, Jack thought. Didn't he remember the part where Sam warned them the Ancient technology couldn't fall into enemy hands?

"We'll get it assembled," he assured her. "Where are you going be?"

"At the end of the corridor. I'm the last defense," she smiled wryly. "Although, guns aren't working on them any longer. They've already learned how to protect themselves against them."

Jack couldn't stop the worry churning in his gut. "So what are you going to do?"

Sam shrugged. "Throw rocks at them, I guess." Jack grabbed her, pulling her tight. He didn't care how inappropriate it was. He wasn't going to send the woman he loved off to fight a losing battle without letting her know how much she meant to him.

"Stay safe as you can, Sam," he whispered, pulling back to gaze into her eyes. "I don't know what I'll do if I. . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence. Sam was bobbing her head.

"I know," she tried to smile. "Me too." He kissed her then, or maybe she was kissing him, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was it was hurried and desperate and he had to let her go.

Sam handed him a plastic card and a radio. "Lock the door behind me and no matter what you hear, don't open it until you've been given the all clear, okay?"

Jack simply nodded, touching her cheek one last time before she ran out the door. Before he could follow her instructions, Bill slid the barrier shut, grabbing the card with shaking hands, sliding it through the electronic lock.

"I thought you were claustrophobic!"

"I am, but I'm more afraid of being killed by Replicators!" Bill sagged against the door, perspiring even more profusely than he had been earlier. Jack knew he had to get the man calmed down or he would be their biggest threat.

"Hey, Chloe," he smiled at the clearly distraught woman. "How about we give Bill a hand in getting that collider thingy put back together?" She swallowed, then tentatively nodded. All of them were scared, but focusing on something would help, Jack reasoned.

"So, how'd you get hooked up with the Army?" Jack asked Chloe conversationally, picking up one of the housing connectors.

"I. . .I have been doing research on particle acceleration, as a means of energy renewal."

"So this thing," Jack said, gesturing towards the circular object, "Is right up your alley. How come you didn't take it apart?"

"Major Carter told me to look at the crystals."

"Did you tell her about your research?"

"No, she seemed fairly taken with the disrupter weapon. Bill knows what he's doing, though," she looked up at the man across from her. Her eyes were shining with something more than friendship, Jack decided, but Bill seemed oblivious.

"What about you, Bill? How did you get mixed up in all this?" Because of his continual tremors, the scientist was struggling with a small piece of the assembly. Jack took the curved clip from his shaking fingers, sliding it into place.

"The Army put out a call for contract bids. I applied. Biggest mistake I ever made."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jack said, looking through the rest of the parts on the table. "Think of all the wonders you seen here!"

"Not worth it," was all he said.

"What about you, Jack? You're not a research scientist," Chloe observed.

"I'm here for the girl," he joked, noting neither Bill nor Chloe seemed to find any humor in his statement. "Seriously. I teach high school chemistry in Denver."

"I always wanted to be a teacher," Chloe said. "I just can't talk in front of people."

"You get used to it," Jack said. "It's worth it when you see them making the connection. Speaking of which, this should be the last one," he said proudly, holding up the reassembled ring.

"But it isn't doing anything," Bill said, the dejection in his voice was unmistakeable.

"It probably needs to be turned on," Chloe observed.

"You're the guy with the gene," Bill accused. "How come you can't make it run?"

Jack looked at the object, but there was no discernible on/off switch that he could see. Then he remembered the chair and how thinking he wanted it to do something produced results. He thought at it. _Turn on, you stupid whatever it is you are! Okay, probably not the way to get it to function,_ he thought. _How about 'please?'_ Still nothing.

"It needs the particles," Chloe realized, but there was no obvious place to introduce them into the device.

"Try shining some light on it," Jack said, unsure where the thought had come from. It was the same feeling he'd had when he'd touched the other alien objects. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. "It'll absorb the rays and start the reaction."

Bill and Chloe looked at each other, shrugging. "What the hell." Bill muttered.

Suddenly, there was the sound of gunfire in the hallway along with muted shouting. Jack couldn't wait any longer; he had to do something! Grabbing the ring from under the ultra-violet lamp, he thought: _Activate. _And the ring began to glow the same eerie green the other Ancient technology had. Jack could feel the contained energy in the ring, but didn't know what to do with it. Without warning, the thought of the chair flashed into his mind, and he remembered joking to Sam that her "mini-dounut" would fit into the housing on the back.

"Gimme the door key!" he shouted at Bill who was in the process of barricading himself in a corner.

"No! They'll get in!"

"Give me the goddamn card or _I'll_ kill you!"

Eyes wide, Bill shakily handed him the rectangle of plastic. "Shut the door when you go!"

The ring was pulsing with radiation and Jack ran to the door, sliding the card to access the exit. He hoped like hell the same card would let him into the room with the chair.

Shouting and gunfire were coming from somewhere. With the strange configuration of the corridors, he couldn't tell where the sound was coming from. He only hoped it wasn't from where Sam had stationed herself. His hands were shaking. One with the access card he was holding, the other with the ring emitting light and heat. It wasn't uncomfortably hot. Yet. But he had the sense if it wasn't attached to _something_ soon, the reaction building within would lead to an overload.

Jack still felt drawn to the chair. Somehow it was the answer. Call it a gut feeling he couldn't name, but he was drawn to the chair as if it was a magnet. He slid the card into the reader, relieved when the light turned green. Pushing the door open just enough to slip in, he took the few steps necessary to reach his goal.

The housing was still extended at the back of the chair and he shoved the ring into place. Standing back, Jack watched as the casing and ring retracted into the chair. Suddenly everything began to glow, and he couldn't resist reaching out to touch the arm.

_Power, energy,_ somehow echoed in his thoughts. Without a conscious decision, he climbed into the seat, settling his limbs along the arms of the chair.

_Weapon._

"This is a weapon?" he asked the empty room, but nothing came to him. Jack could feel the intensity of the re-charged chair, almost as if it was asking him to _do_ something with it, to liberate it's potential. "I don't know what you want from me!"

_Enemy._

"I know! I know! How do I stop them?"

_Release._

"Release what?" he shouted. Looking around the lab, he found nothing, the room was empty except for the chair. "Oh, what the hell," he mumbled to himself, then thought, _release the weapons. _Suddenly the chair reclined, and a projection showing the ships surrounding Earth floated above him. "Whoa!"

Bits of light, reminding him of fireflies, flew literally from the ends of the Earth, surrounding the ships. Nothing was happening beyond encircling the ships, as if they lacked direction. _Destroy the ships,_ he thought and the streaks of light began to swarm the Replicator ships. _Where the hell were these things coming from?_ he wondered, even as he tried to control their trajectory. Then, somehow he was. Some how _he_ and this chair were stopping an invasion.

Jack turned his attention to the closest ship, still not quite grasping how he was manipulating the energy weapons. Another Replicator ship was closing in on the location of the one he was battling, forming a circle around their attackers. From the projection he could see they were trying to assimilate the technology in order to form a defense against it. It wasn't working. Before the replicators were able to consume any of the attacking forces, they were blown apart, separated from the main body. Already the Replicators had learned that strategy hadn't worked and they tried breaking into smaller ships, perhaps to out-number the weapons swarming them. No mater how many they broke into, there seemed to be a never ending supply of glowing projectiles bent on destroying them.

There was one ship that maintained it's cohesion, at the rear of the battle, and Jack knew this had to be where Reese was. She was their Queen, and the Replicators would protect her at all costs. He couldn't let her escape. If she survived, she would just fall back and rebuild her fleet, learning from her mistakes. Reese had to die if the Replicators were to be truly vanquished.

Picturing Reese in his mind, he directed the weapon to _seek and destroy. _Suddenly, the bits of light concentrated themselves in and around the remaining ship like a school of piranha looking for a bit of flesh. It didn't take long before the entire construct was glowing, then blowing itself apart, isolating each block from it's neighbor.

Vaguely aware Sam had entered the room, they both watched the overhead display as disembodied Replicator blocks rained harmlessly down on Earth, burning up in the atmosphere. In cities all over Earth, people were no doubt looking to the skies, wondering at the strange hail of light.

Jack closed his eyes, completely drained of energy. The chair returned to its upright position as Sam reached forward to keep him from falling out.

"Jack! Are you all right?" Her hands washed over his face and down his arms. "Jesus! You're burning up!"

He couldn't open his eyes, it was just too much effort. ". . .be okay," he whispered, and tried to smile to reassure her, but his lips barely moved. Sagging against the chair he heard others enter the room but couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to see who it was. All he wanted to do was sleep, and the same voice that had been guiding him affirmed it: _Rest. Heal._

**A/N—**I may not have time to post later, so this might be it for today. Thanks again to everyone for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N—**turns out I had time for a second post after all.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**28**

Sam looked up to see Daniel and the rest of SG-1 running into the room. Jack was slumped forward and she was holding onto his arm to keep him from falling out of the chair.

"Is he okay?" Daniel asked as Kawalsky and Janet moved closer to examine Jack. Performing a quick vitals check-pulse, looking into his eyes, feeling for a temperature-Janet glanced back at her CO.

"He gonna be all right?" Kawalsky asked his team mate.

"I don't know. We need to get him to the infirmary. He's breathing, but his heart rate is elevated. Dr. Brightman will know what to do." Janet gave Sam a confident smile and a nod as she left the room, hopefully in search of some orderlies. Sam hadn't let go of Jack's hand, even though it had gone slack in her grasp. She was worried at his unconscious state, and dangerously close to loosing control, but she wasn't about to in front of Daniel and Kawalsky. Feeling Kawalsky's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, tipped the scales and she felt tears starting to course down her cheeks.

"He's tough," Kawalsky said, trying to bolster her. "When we were kids he got a concussion during the State hockey finals. Played the whole game. No one knew until we hit the locker room."

Sam was hard pressed to find comfort in the fact Jack was too stubborn to let his team down. Although, she supposed she should be. If Jack hadn't shown the tenacity to see this to the end, none of them would be standing there to talk about it.

Wiping her eyes and nose on the back of her hand, Sam looked up at Kawalsky. "So what happened?"

"Pretty much nothing. Doc looked at him, told him he was damn lucky to have such a hard head."

She smiled, turning her gaze back to Jack. "He's not seventeen anymore."

"He's still just as tough. Maybe even more so now."

"Why now?" she asked, looking back up at him.

"He's got you." Sam nodded, reaching up to give the hand resting on her shoulder a return squeeze.

Just then Janet arrived with a gurney and two men from the infirmary. "Dr. Brightman's getting ready for him," she assured Sam, pulling her out of the way. "She'll take good care of him." Sam started to follow, but Daniel held her back.

"General Carter wants a briefing ASAP. Then we have to see about getting the mucky mucks back where they belong." Daniel waited a beat then asked Sam, "He got them all, right? I mean it is safe to assume. . ."

"He got them all," she confirmed. "There was some kind of projection, showing the battle. Kind of like a hologram, but more interactive than that. I'm not sure how to explain it," she said, shaking her head. "I watched what he was doing, and I still don't believe it. There were all these 'glowy things' he was somehow commanding. They attacked Reese's ship and blew it up from the inside out."

Daniel's face split into a full-blown grin. "'Glowy things?' Is that a technical term, Dr. Carter?"

"Damn straight," she smiled back at him. "I'll try to come up with a better adjective before the briefing."

"Look, I know you want to get to the infirmary, but maybe you should check on your lab assistants. They didn't strike me as the 'cool under fire' types."

Sam nodded. "I need to let them know it's over."

XXXXXX

Jack was still sleeping when Sam entered the infirmary. Looking around, she noticed how much more compact the area was compared to the medical facility she was familiar with. Probably with fewer SG teams and personnel, this SGC didn't warrant the extra space.

She'd met Alisen Brightman briefly in her universe, and knew Janet thought highly of the woman. That was good enough for Sam. Still, she couldn't help wishing Janet had been a doctor here; she'd feel a little more confident in Jack's recovery.

Walking to his bedside, Sam picked up Jack's hand, hoping in his sleeping state he was aware of her. She traced his fingers, trying to remember if she was as familiar with Colonel O'Neill's hands as she was Jack's. His left pinky jutted out slightly from a badly healed break. Lying in bed one night he'd told her of the baseball game that had caused his broken finger. She recalled him joking how he hoped he never met any Vulcans since he was no longer able to make the hand sign for "live long and prosper."

Sam smiled at the memory as she continued to run her fingers over his. There were so many little things she loved about him. The way he'd light up when he encountered a dog, getting excited over a new flavor of ice cream at the local shop. Such small, inconsequential things, but all part of what made him "Jack" and made her love him even more. Watching him sleep, she hoped it _was_ just sleep as Dr. Brightman had assured her it was. She didn't want to think he'd completely burned himself out like a filament in an incandescent light bulb. She, more than anyone, knew the kind of energy Jack had been called on to direct. It took an incredible sense of self-discipline and focus, and frankly, she was a little surprised he possessed such focus. She was proud of him. He'd saved them all. Saved the planet. There weren't many men who could add that to their resume'.

"Hey, how's he doing?"

Looking up, Sam noticed Janet hovering in the doorway. "Okay, I think," she said, casting a glance back at Jack. "Dr. Brightman says he's not in a coma, just an extremely deep sleep."

"How are you holding up?"

"Me? I'm fine. A little tired perhaps, but I would imagine everyone feels that way."

Entering the room, Janet pulled up a chair to sit next to her. "Yeah, it's a drag when that adrenaline wears off." They sat in silence for a few moments, unsure what to say to each other. Even though she and Janet had been friends for years, this woman had just met her, and it made conversation feel a little forced. "You know, if you want to grab a shower I can sit with him."

Sam's laugh was almost a snort. "Is that a hint, Janet?"

Rather than being embarrassed, the biologist joined in her mirth. "Not exactly," she chuckled. "I just know how much better I felt getting cleaned up." Again, silence descended on them. A few uncomfortable minutes later, Janet added, "Feels kind of surreal, doesn't it?"

"Which part?" Sam asked running a hand through her hair. It felt grimy and now she understood Janet's offer.

"Well, going from the sword of Damocles hanging over our heads to wondering if I have a job tomorrow. I've been so intent on finding a way to stop the Replicators, I don't know what the next step is."

Sam nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. When we finally defeated Apophis, the System Lord we'd been battling for years, I was kind of at loose ends. I think we all were. Turns out we didn't have to twiddle our thumbs very long. Surely after this, Kinsey will realize the value of your program."

Now it was Janet's turn to snort. "Did he in your universe?"

"Okay, so you make a point," Sam smiled. Jack moved on the bed, letting out a soft moan. Immediately her attention was back on him, rising to see if there was anything she could do to make him more comfortable.

"So how'd you guys meet?"

"That's a long story," Sam grinned, running her fingers through Jack's short hair. "Do you mean the first time or this time?"

"You should probably start at the beginning," Janet suggested. Sam was quiet for a moment then told Janet of her less-than-auspicious start with Colonel O'Neill and the rest of SG-1.

"He wanted nothing to do with me. Which, ironically, happened this time as well." Janet's puzzled look prompted Sam into giving her the shortened version of her initial dealings with Jack. He moved around in the bed again, and once he settled, Sam retook her seat.

"You love him a lot, don't you?" Janet said. Normally that kind of blunt observation-especially from Janet-had Sam in full denial mode, but this time she was actually relieved she could admit it.

"Yeah, I do."

Sam could see Janet was working up to asking her something else and waited for her to phrase it. "Are you and Jack involved, I mean, back there. . . .?

"No," she stated. "I think you know he's my CO in that universe." She looked down at her hands, starting to twist in her lap. "Neither one of us would step over that line. I hadn't planned on it here either. In fact, at first I had a really difficult time separating them in my head."

"Keeping Colonel O'Neill on one side, Jack on the other," Janet confirmed.

"Yeah. It's weird. Physically they're almost exactly the same. O'Neill obviously has more scars and injuries than Jack, but other than that, I don't know that you could tell them apart. They do share the same sense of humor, but their occupations and experiences are so different it's obvious they're not the same. So, it's weird," she reiterated. "At first I kind of felt like I was cheating on O'Neill with his brother Jack."

"And you don't now?"

Sam took a deep breath, trying to put her thoughts into words. "No, I don't. I can't have the relationship with O'Neill that I have with Jack. That in itself is the biggest difference between them."

Janet shifted uncomfortably on her chair. Again she was struggling to express herself. "I guess I was hoping maybe the two of you-Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter-had found away to make it work within the bounds of the military."

Sam looked up, surprised at the statement. "Is there someone here. . . .?" Suddenly it came to her. "It's Daniel, isn't it?" Janet's slight head nod and rosy cheeks was the only confirmation she needed. "I had my suspicions," she smiled at the woman across from her.

"Were we that obvious?" Janet asked, eyes suddenly wide.

"No! You weren't obvious at all," Sam tried to reassure her. "It's just that I've been in your position for so long, it's easy to spot the signs."

Janet let out a sigh. "We certainly didn't mean for it to happen. I mean who goes out looking to fall for the exact wrong person?"

Reaching over, Sam grasped Janet's hand. "I know." Just then Daniel entered the room, and the two women practically sprang apart. He looked suspiciously at them, no doubt realizing he'd been a topic of conversation. Clearing his throat, he nodded towards the bed.

"Has he woken up?"

Sam stood again, moving over to Jack's bed. "No, he's restless though. I don't think it'll be too much longer."

"Kinsey's chomping at the bit to get back to Washington, but in an uncharacteristic show of goodwill, he wants to thank Jack personally for saving our asses."

"Is that what he said?" Janet asked, incredulous.

Daniel smiled. "I think he used more diplomatic words than that." Sam observed the flirtatious smiles they exchanged and felt her heart twinge. She was surprised she hadn't noticed their attraction sooner.

Daniel looked over to the man on the bed once more. "He obviously had something to do with releasing some kind of weapon on the Replicators, but I'm still completely in the dark what it was." His gaze shifted to Sam. "Do you know what it was?"

"Actually, I've never encountered anything like it. Obviously it was some type of Ancient defense, but I'm just as clueless as you as to _what_ it was. I doubt even Jack knows. He must have had some kind of instinct for it, though."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, he seemed drawn to the chair. When I asked him about it, he couldn't seem to articulate what it was about the device he felt an affinity for, only that he just _knew_ it was something important."

Nodding, Daniel stared sightlessly at the hospital bed. "If we do any testing on it, he's obviously going to have to be involved. Any chance he'd be interested in being a civilian contractor?" The irony of Daniel being in charge of SG-1 and Jack the civilian wasn't lost on Sam.

"I can't answer for him, but I'm sure he'd consider it. He's pretty dedicated to his students, though."

"And what about you?" he asked.

"What do you mean, what about me?"

"Are you interested in becoming a part of the SGC?"

Sam's eyes grew wide. "I. . .I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it." She truly hadn't given much thought to what happened next. She knew she wanted to be with Jack, but the appeal of once again being a part of the Stargate program had an equally strong pull. While her life in Denver hadn't been unpleasant, she was frustrated by feeling underutilized. What if Jack chose not to get involved with the program? Or only on a limited basis? She couldn't see Jack moving to Nevada before Charlie graduated, and perhaps not even then. He had a place in the Denver school system, and he didn't seem to be interested in changing that.

And what about her? Of course the job hadn't been officially offered to her, but she should be ready if it was. Could she live apart from Jack, for two years at a minimum? Would she be a part of the Army? The Air Force? The people on the base referred to her as "Major," but was she one here? Or would she also be considered a civilian? Too many choices to make, especially when Jack was still out of it.

"You should think about it," Daniel said, bringing her out of her musings. "I've already talked to General Carter and he seems very enthusiastic."

Sam gave him a sad smile. "I'm sure being a copy of his daughter has helped in that regard."

"I won't deny it's a factor, but it's not the only advantage to bringing you on board." Sam was confident enough in her abilities to realize what an asset she would be to the SGC.

"It would be great to have another woman around," Janet said. "Not that I don't love my guys, but the testosterone does get a little thick around here sometimes." Sam could relate to that. It was part of the reason she and her Janet had bonded so quickly, and perhaps one of the reasons she was feeling that bond with this Janet.

"I'll think about it," Sam promised them, "But I need to talk to Jack first and at the rate he's sleeping this off, that could be awhile. In the mean time, if Da. . .General Carter wants to make me an offer, I'll be happy to listen."

Jack stirred, took in a long breath and Sam saw his eyelids fluter. Then he was blinking, trying to clear his eyes.

"Can't a guy get some sleep around here?" He croaked. Reaching for a container of water, Sam angled the straw to his mouth. Jack took a sip, nodding at her when he'd had enough. "Did we do it?" he asked. His voice still sounded weak.

Leaning over to kiss him, she didn't care if she had an audience. It was so damn good to hear his voice she wouldn't have cared if the entire base was in the room with them. "_You_ did. It was all you, Jack. Well, you and some kick-ass Ancient technology," she smiled at him.

"I don't really remember. I know there was something about the chair, but I don't remember much after that."

"You unleashed one hell of firestorm on the Replicators," Daniel said, stepping closer to the bed. "We're still not sure what it was, but we're damn grateful." he extended his hand and Jack looked it as if he was unsure what to do with it. Finally, Jack took it, giving it a small shake.

"I didn't do anything," Jack said, and Sam could see he was uncomfortable with the attention.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Mr. O'Neill." Everyone's head turned to see Vice-President Kinsey in the doorway with his ever-present public relations team in tow. The room was already crowded, but he stepped in any way, pushing the current occupants out of the way as he strode to the bed.

Kinsey shoved his hand into Jack's personal space. "Let me be the first to shake your hand, sir."

"Actually, you're the second," Daniel quipped, just loud enough for Sam to hear. Biting her lower lip to keep from smiling, she turned her attention back to the Vice-President. Jack looked totally star-struck, and Sam only wished the man was worthy of such adoration.

"After attending a briefing with our military leaders, I was informed it was you who managed to pull off our amazing eleventh hour 'hail Mary.' Mr. O'Neill, I'm sure I speak for the people of our great nation and the world when I say, 'thank you' from the bottom of our hearts. God was surely in His heaven when he sent you to us in our hour of need." It was all Sam could do not to roll her eyes as Jack hesitantly shook the Vice-President's outstretched hand. Photo flashes lit the room and Jack looked completely overwhelmed.

"Smile, Mr. O'Neill. America loves a hero," Kinsey spoke quietly in an aside Jack's grin looked pained as he struggled with all the scrutiny he was under. Sam knew this was the last thing he wanted. To be bombarded, especially moments after waking. Fortunately, he was saved by Dr. Brightman's pushing her way into the room.

"Everyone out! Until he's been cleared, there will be no more interviews!" Kinsey quickly acquiesced, apparently through dispensing accolades. For the first time, he seemed to realize Sam was in the room. His gaze fell on her and the practiced smile vanished as he recognized her.

"You!" he accused, not even using her name. Sam doubted he even remembered it. Turning to Daniel he barked, "What is this woman still doing running around this facility? I thought I told you I wanted her in custody! Arrest her this instant!"


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N**-sorry this is getting posted kind of late today, but chapter 30 should follow fairly quickly.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**29**

Jack watched in complete shock as two MPs stepped forward and took Sam by each arm. One minute the Vice-President of the whole damn country is patting him on the back and the next, they're hauling his girlfriend off for no apparent reason.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, looking from Sam's abashed and outraged face to Jackson's, whose immobility was starting to wear off to be replaced with indignation. "Jackson! Stop them!" Jack cried, struggling to sit up. Dr. Brightman stepped forward, trying to push him back into a reclining position, but he was having none of it. "Sam!"

"It'll be okay, Jack," she tried to assure him, but from the look on her face, he knew she was only trying to placate him.

"Where are you taking her? What's she being charged with?" Jack felt as weak as a newborn, and even the effort to sit up had exhausted him. There was no way in hell he was going to let them just take her!

Kinsey looked down his nose at him. "Unfortunately, Mr. O'Neill, your 'girlfriend' has duped you as well as everyone she's come in contact with. That woman," Kinsey said, leveling a finger at Sam, "Is a threat to national security and I want her in custody _now_!"

"Daniel?" he questioned, "Are you just going to let them take her after all she's done to protect this _planet_? Where the hell do you get off accusing her of being a threat?" he directed at Kinsey who was turning to exit the room.

Daniel's hands were clenched into fists and Jack could see it was taking all of his restraint to remain where he was. "It's best if we let them take her," he said through clenched teeth. "For now. We'll get this cleared up."

Kinsey's smirk was ferral. "Oh, that's where you're wrong, Colonel Jackson. She's under _my_ jurisdiction now. This is no longer a military matter. Let's go." Sam gave him a last fleeting look and a nod. Jack knew she was trying to put his mind to rest, but he'd gotten to know her well enough he could see she was struggling to keep up a brave front.

Collapsing back on the bed, Jack's mind couldn't focus on all that had happened. In a matter of minutes he'd gone from being dazzled by the Vice-President, to being ready to slug him for his misguided accusations. Daniel and Janet stepped closer to his bed, the latter placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. His eyes were drooping. He needed to stay awake, but he saw Dr. Brightman inserting a syringe into his I.V. line.

". . . .have to stay awake. . . ."

"You need rest, Mr. O'Neill and if this is the only way you'll get it, so be it. Colonel, Major, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Jack could feel the inevitable pull of sleep, but put forth one last effort to speak to Daniel, grabbing his arm.

"Take care of her for me. . . ."

XXXXXX

_This is all getting to be a little too routine_, Sam decided, pacing the confines of the small cell. It was about half the size of her accommodations at Cheyenne Mountain, and was obviously for short term holding, not incarceration. At least they'd removed the handcuffs. _So where do you suppose they'll take me?_

Sam found herself idly rubbing her wrists as she walked back and forth. She'd tried to make sure Jack didn't worry about her, but she couldn't help the bubble of panic starting to form in her gut. She had no ace in the hole this time. No one higher than Kinsey she could appeal to for help. She'd met Henry Hayes in her reality, but not this one. She'd reached the end of the line with her influential acquaintances.

Kinsey's paranoia confirmed her suspicions he was manipulating nefarious groups here, just as he did in her world. No doubt he'd blackmailed his way into the Vice-Presidency and saw her as a threat to his political agenda. Sure, she knew what he was capable of, probably better than most people, but she had no evidence. Who's ear did he think she had?

It probably didn't help that the head of Homeworld Security had been her get-out-jail-free card. She didn't even know Hammond here. In a bizarre twist of fate, the man who'd managed her release the last time was now was probably the reason Kinsey felt threatened. No doubt Hammond had the clout to see an investigation into Kinsey's finances through. Was all this just to keep her from being in contact with the head of Homeworld Security?

Sam scrubbed her hands through her hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. She probably looked as frazzled as she felt. One minute she was despairing over the Replicators, and the next she was forced into another no-win situation. Was it too much to ask she be allowed to catch her breath?

Lying down on the hard cot, Sam slung her arm over her eyes, trying to block out the harsh overhead light. Frankly, she was a little surprised Kinsey hadn't shown up at her cell to gloat, but she supposed he had her where he wanted her. Tossed into a small cage with no contact and no information probably served his purpose better than rubbing her face into her situation.

She'd never thought of his behavior as being Goa'uld-esque, but lying on the thin mattress and scratchy wool blanket, she realized that's exactly how he was acting. A self-important megalomaniac who wielded his authority same as any System Lord she'd ever met. And he didn't have the excuse of being possessed by a snake.

Just then she heard the outer door being opened. Sitting up, Sam remained on the cot, as far from the enclosing bars as she could get.

"Daniel!" suddenly Sam was on her feet, taking two steps to reach the barrier separating them. Behind him sat Jack in a wheelchair, being pushed by Janet. "Jack! What are you doing out of bed?"

"Guy's pretty damn stubborn," Daniel acknowledged, jerking his head towards Jack. "Told me he'd kick my ass if I didn't get him to see you."

Sam was shaking her head, an exasperated smile coming to her lips. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could get us out of here." His voice was weak and she could see it was taking quite an effort to remain upright in the chair. Janet had a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"That's not likely to happen," she said, casting a glance at Daniel. He didn't say anything, but she could tell by the look in his eyes she'd guessed right.

"What's the deal with Kinsey anyway? What's he afraid of?" Jack asked, zeroing in on the crux of the matter.

Sam reached through the bars, running her hand along his forearm. He was gripping the arm of the wheelchair and she wondered if was for support or in an effort to control his anger. "I know things about him. Well, I suppose I know things about the other Kinsey," she amended.

"Does he know that for sure? Has he ever even talked to you?"

"He knew I recognized him."

"Well of _course_ you recognized him," Jack huffed. "He's the Vice-President for crying out loud!"

Sam wasn't sure what to say to that. How the moment their gazes had met, Kinsey had _known_ she knew. She couldn't even begin to devise a defense. There was no way he'd accept her word she wouldn't expose him. The only way he could be sure of her compliance was to put her away, and it was obvious he intended to do that. Perhaps there would be an accident, and who would know or mourn her? She was a woman who supposedly didn't exist.

Suddenly, she realized this wasn't solely about her. Everyone she'd had contact with in this universe was at risk, with Jack and Charlie at the top of the list. As long as she was alive, they were in danger. Their safety was the blackmail Kinsey would use to keep her in line, even as she was locked away.

Closing her eyes, Sam took a breath. "In my universe his hands are so dirty, they'll never come clean." She opened her eyes and looked between the three people gathered outside her cell. "Haven't you ever wondered how an obscure Senator had such a meteoric rise in his political career? How in a matter of one term he's suddenly the Vice-President, making it no secret his eye is on the Presidency? He's not about to let anything stop him, certainly not a glitch like me."

"So what's he going to do?" Jack asked, looking to Daniel.

"He'll put her away," the Colonel whispered, looking at the floor, unable to meet either her or Jack's gazes.

"Put her away? You mean like in prison? For what? She hasn't done anything!" Jack's voice had gained some volume, but still cracked under the strain.

"That doesn't matter," Daniel said, turning to Jack. "He's convinced she's guilty just by showing up in a top-secret facility."

Jack took in a lungful of air. "There's this little thing called 'evidence'."

"Unfortunately, he has evidence."

"He does?" Jack said looking to her for confirmation.

Gripping the bars of her cell, Sam forced her gaze to meet Jack's. "The same surveillance footage SG-1 used to find me, clearly shows me within this base. There's no record of my entry, so obviously I somehow breached security to be within the facility. Probably to gather highly classified information."

Jack's eyes quickly moved back and forth, then he looked at Sam. "Didn't you tell him about how, you know, um, got here?"

Smiling, Janet articulated what Jack hadn't said, "You mean that she's from an alternate universe?"

Jack shrugged, sheepish. "Yeah, that."

"He knows," Daniel said. "He just chooses not to acknowledge there could be another version of all this," he said, gesturing around the room.

"And yet he believes Sam knows another him somewhere enough to fear her."

"He kind of picks and chooses what he wants to believe," Daniel said.

Jack looked around at everyone and Sam could see he was fading fast. "What are we going to do about it?"

"We?" All three of them said at once.

"If you think I'm going to just sit by while Sam is railroaded, you're all nuts." He locked gazes with her. "Don't even think about arguing with me," he said, sounding so much like Colonel O'Neill, Sam almost stood up straighter and called him "sir."

Daniel was surprisingly silent, then quietly stated, "We have to send her back," he said, looking her straight in the eye.

Sam's mouth dropped open in shock. "You can do that?"

Pushing his glasses up, Daniel continued to stare at her. "It's not a guarantee, but the mirror should still be on P3R-233. There were plans to retrieve it, but Kinsey shut the program down before we could bring it back."

"So you're saying when we get it, we should try to send Sam through?" Janet asked.

"I don't think we have that long," Daniel said. "Kinsey's going to get her transferred as soon as possible. Once she leaves the SGC, I don't think we'll have another opportunity."

"Opportunity to what?" Jack asked.

Sam reached through the bars to grasp Jack's hand. "Opportunity to try to get me to the mirror. Right?" she asked, looking over to Daniel who simply nodded. Turning her attention back to Jack, she added, "But I'm not going to go. I'm not leaving you or Charlie. And I'm not going to put this SG-1 at risk."

"I think that's our choice," Daniel said.

Jack's eyes squinted as he looked up at Daniel. "Why are you so hot to send her back? I thought you were the one who said she was difference between winning and losing against the Replicators. How come you're so quick to give up your ace in the hole?"

It took a moment before Daniel answered him. "Because she doesn't belong here. It's not her life." Daniel took a breath and looked back at her. "You know I'd love for you to be a part of our program, but that's not going to be an option. As long as Kinsey is in a position of power, there's no way he'll allow her freedom."

She didn't want to admit it, but Daniel was right. Kinsey would remain a threat as long as he was in power. What choice did she have if she wanted to keep Jack and Charlie safe? "He's right," Sam said, avoiding looking at Jack.

Daniel cleared his throat, jerking his head at Janet, indicating they should give them some privacy. Jack struggled out of the wheelchair, clinging to the bars of her cell for support.

"You should be in the infirmary," Sam said, not wanting to have this conversation with him.

"Not until we straighten some things out," Jack said. His voice was breathy and she knew if she didn't get this out of the way, he'd never consent to getting some rest. "So, you want to leave me. Go back to _him_."

"Jack, it's not like that."

"Oh, really? How is it then? Did you enjoy indulging your fantasies? Seeing how things would have been if you crossed that line? Never mind that I fell hopelessly in love with you. You can just wash your hands of the whole lot of us and return from your vacation to Neverland."

"Stop it!" she shouted. Taking a deep breath, she tried to remember he was exhausted and scared. Sam closed her eyes, trying to rein in her emotions. She wrapped her hands over his, squeezing harder than was probably comfortable. "I love _you_, damn it, and you know it. Don't make this about me choosing him over you."

Jack lowered himself to the wheelchair once more. "How am I supposed to take it? First chance you get you're running for the door." His voice sounded defeated and Sam felt terrible.

"I don't even know if it's possible to go back," she said quietly, looking down at the floor of the cell. She shifted her gaze back to his eyes. He looked exhausted beyond the physical. In a matter of hours he'd had to wrap his head around an invading alien force; everything she'd told him about the Stargate had been true; a leader he seemed to trust had turned out to be at the top of a very large conspiracy; and he learned he was the descendant of a race he hadn't even known existed.

Now she was pulling away from him. True, she wanted to keep he and Charlie safe, but was that the only reason she clung to Daniel's assertion there was a way to get back to her own universe? If the choice was merely to stay here with Jack or go back, it would be an easy decision. She _did_ love him and had a life here. But what would it be like for him to see her in prison? Held for an indefinite time on trumped-up charges on the accusations of a paranoid? That was even if she was allowed to see him.

"I won't do it, Jack. Oh, I'd get through it just to piss Kinsey off, and I know you wouldn't let anyone forget where I was. But what I _can't_ take is the thought you'll come every week, try to boost my spirits as the hope in your eyes dies. I won't do that to you. It would be better for all of us if I just didn't exist here."

Jack struggled to his feet again. "No!" He tried to shout, grabbing the bars once more to steady himself. "I can't live with another loss like that, Sam." he was shaking his head, tears gathering in his eyes. "You don't know what it was like," he whispered. "After Sara. It was impossible. _I_ was impossible. I almost destroyed Charlie. I can't sink into that hole again."

"Then don't! I'm not going to be dead, Jack!"

"You might as well be," he sighed. "The only difference is there won't be a body or a grave site to mourn at." Jack rested his head against the bars and she stepped closer, resting her head against his.

"Jack, you know I love you. I love Charlie, but there isn't a good choice here. I don't even know _if_ I can get back. Even if Daniel can get me to the mirror, it doesn't mean I'll get back to my own reality. General Hammond had the mirror we used destroyed. My only hope is there are others. I can't imagine whoever made the mirrors limited them to one per universe. There has to be more."

"Wishful thinking won't make it so," he mumbled. He was quiet for a few moments then looked up, suddenly sparked with an idea. "Jackson's going to try to bust you out of here before you can be transferred, right?"

"I guess that's the plan. . . ."

"Then he can hide you somewhere in this facility and when it's safe I'll pick you up and we'll head to my cabin in Minnesota."

Sam shook her head, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "You know you're going to be watched, especially if I've gone missing. Even if I go back to my own universe, they'll still be watching you. I'm _so _sorry, Jack. I never meant for you to get mixed up in all of this."

Jack reached through the bars, pulling her closer, kissing her desperately. "I'm not going to convince you, am I?" he breathed.

"I have to do this, Jack," she said, wishing to God she had another option. One that didn't involve going to prison, or hiding the rest of her life. What would the strain ultimately do to them? She'd rather leave him now than watch him turn bitter and resentful.

Sam could hear booted footfalls coming closer. "They're coming for me. Promise me you won't try to stop them. You're in no shape to take on a group of soldiers." Before he could answer, the detail of four soldiers entered the room housing her small cell.

"Samantha Carter, you've been charged with falsifying your identity, and unlawful entry. You will be detained at another facility until your arraignment." As the lead soldier began to read Sam her rights, she gave Jack a pleading glance, silently begging him to let her go. The moment the door was open she rushed into his arms, kissing him and returning the fierce hug she was receiving.

"Jackson better be ready for you," he whispered in her ear. She nodded, kissed him once more and stepped back from him when she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her away from him.

"I love you, Jack! she called. "Tell Charlie I love him, too!"


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**30**

Daniel and Kawalsky were stationed in a corridor intersecting the route the MPs would be using to move Sam. They were hidden from what would be the soldier's perspective, as were Ferretti and Janet, who were across the hallway. Janet had her white lab coat over her uniform and a stack of papers in her hands, waiting for Daniel's signal.

Pushing himself tighter against the wall, Daniel heard the approaching guards as well as O'Neill's beseeching pleas—Jack must have been following them in his wheelchair, he reasoned.

"Come on, guys! Have a heart! Are the cuffs really necessary?" Whether the vocal display was to give his team a heads-up, he didn't know, but Daniel took the advantage it offered. Signaling to Janet, Daniel counted down with his fingers. The major stepped out into the hallway on three, pretending to be oblivious to the advancing soldiers.

The lead MP crashed into her, sending papers flying. Janet started apologizing profusely, bending down to pick up papers. The rest of the soldiers too, stopped momentarily in the confusion, giving Sam the opening she needed. Daniel watched her lash out with her elbow first at the man on her left, then kicked the one on her right. Daniel caught himself wincing as Sam delivered a well-aimed foot to the man's groin. O'Neill was a few paces back, breathing hard, clinging to the arms of the wheelchair.

It only took seconds for Daniel to assess the situation and even as Sam's escort were collapsing to the ground, he, Kawalsky and Ferritti moved in to disarm them.

"Sorry, boys," Daniel said, relieving the leader of the handcuff keys. "Nothing personal, but we have some unfinished business with Major Carter."

"You're not going to get away with this," the man growled when he found his own wrists in Sam's vacated cuffs. "The Vice-President won't let this go."

"Oh, I'm sure he won't. When you speak to him, you can tell him to kiss. . ."

"That he sends his regards," Janet diplomatically interjected, locking her gaze with his. She nodded to Daniel as she and Ferretti gathered the MPs, marching them back to the cell they'd just retrieved Sam from.

Sam acepted the rifle Daniel handed her, sliding on a tactical vest.

"We don't have a lot of time, here," Kawalsky reminded them. Looking over at Jack he observed, "Jesus, you look like hell."

"Thanks. Kinda feel that way too." Daniel paused long enough to look over his shoulder at Jack. He really _did_ look awful, he decided. His skin appeared grey, and he could tell it was sheer willpower keeping him upright in the chair. There was nothing about this situation that didn't suck for the guy, he realized.

Leaning over, Sam quietly admonished, "Jack, please go to the infirmary."

"If you're determined to do this, then I'm damn well going to be there when you go."

Finally, she noddeded, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair, moving quickly through the hallway.

"Guess there really isn't a lot of discrepancy in our universes is there?" Daniel observed. "I mean, you know your way around this facility as well as anyone stationed here."

"It's close enough. In my universe there's another storage room where you're 'gate room is." She took a few more steps then asked, "Do you have a plan?"

Daniel looked up, noticing the security camera and picked up his pace. Surely people were starting to question where the MPs were. "You mean about when we get to '233?" he asked. At her nod he added, "Not a clue. Find another mirror in your universe, I guess."

"Oh, is that all? Well, since it's going to be such a walk in the park. . . ."

Daniel jogged along side her. "I'm sorry, Sam. I wish I had a good answer for you. You know this is a long shot."

"I do know, and I want you also to know how indebted I am to you, and your team," she said, casting a glance backwards at Kawalsky. Daniel too cast a glance backward and saw Ferretti and Fraiser catching up to them.

"They're secure," Janet informed them, breathless.

"Good job, guys," Daniel said. They'd reached the blast door of the 'gate room and he wasn't surprised to see two more soldiers waiting for them, guns aimed in their direction.

Joining his team in raising his hands, Daniel spoke calmly. "Stand down. This doesn't concern you."

The younger of the men spoke up. "I'm sorry sir, but we've been told not to let you into the 'gate room. You're ordered to report to General Carter." Daniel was about to speak when off to his left, O'Neill began coughing and gasping for breath. It wasn't much of a distraction, but Daniel seized the moment the soldier's attention wavered, grabbing his gun and disarming him. Sam surprised the other soldier, delivering a well-aimed punch to his jaw, sending him to the floor.

"Sorry, Blakely," Daniel muttered to the young man he'd taken the gun from, just before he punched him as well. Kawalsky, Ferretti and Fraiser moved in closer as Daniel swiped his access card. Sam was bent over, checking on O'Neill as the door slid open.

"I'm okay!" he wheezed. "Just go!" As soon as his team was through the door, Daniel pushed the controls to close it, but it took time for the heavy door to roll closed and seal the entrance. Standing guard, he motioned the rest of his people to the DHD and the ramp. It wasn't going to be long before reinforcements showed up.

"Sam! Dial it up!" Daniel called, still aiming at the decreasing gap in the blast door. "Don't do it, Whitlock," he warned the soldier about to squeeze through the door. "Just let us go." After a moment's hesitation, the woman stood down, giving him a resigned nod. Daniel nodded his thanks, just as the door slid home.

Firing a few shots at the card reader, Daniel disabled it, joining his team at the base of the ramp, just as the wormhole engaged. "Thanks for the distraction, O'Neill. In another life, I might like you."

Jack managed a weak smile, "According to Sam, we do." Daniel grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. Yeah, he could see that. Daniel moved off to wait with his team, giving Jack and Sam a chance to say good-bye. He was going to have a hard enough time himself letting her go and he wasn't involved with her. He certainly didn't envy the man.

Jack stood, shakily, embracing Sam, then kissing her so hard Daniel wondered if she was going to have any air left. He heard murmured "I love you's" and turned his back, trying to give the couple a modicum of privacy.

"Sorry, guys. We've got to go. They'll get that door open any minute now."

Sam nodded, giving Jack one last kiss before she headed up the ramp, then stepped into the blue horizon. Daniel was the last to go through, ensuring everyone made it out. He looked down at O'Neill who'd collapsed back into the wheelchair. Before the man could entreat him, Daniel promised,

"I'll look after her," and he stepped into the 'gate.

**A/N**-One more chapter and then the epilogue. I'm too impatient to wait until tomorrow, so I'll post the end later today.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**31**

Sam was already in the room with the mirror when Daniel entered. While part of her felt like like she'd come home the minute she'd stepped through the wormhole, the other part felt as though she'd left a greater portion with Jack in the SGC. She knew with rest Jack would recover physically, but she, better than anyone knew how intensely he grieved. Not that it would be any easier for her. There was no denying how much she'd come to love him, and how difficult it was going to be to never see him again. But this SG-1 had risked everything to get her here and she couldn't waste the opportunity they'd given her. While the temptation to remain in this reality was nearly overwhelming, she knew she had to try to return where she belonged.

Taking a deep breath and focussing on the job at hand, Sam picked up a device resembling a large television remote. "This is the controller, right? It looks like the one I've seen before." Daniel looked up from the table of devices he was perusing and joined her.

"This one seems to control the location," he said, pointing to the dial on the blue side. "And this one the reality stream," he indicated, touching the magenta side. "At least that's how it worked for me. Would you like me to try it?" he offered.

"Maybe if you could find the reality you went to, it would give us a baseline."

"I'd kind of like to see how they're doing, anyway," he smiled. Sam watched as he manipulated the dials in tiny increments, guessing it took less movement to "tune in" closely related universes.

Daniel tried to watch the mirror as he touched the controls. "Not quite. . . ." he mumbled. Daniel handed the device off to Sam. "You try it, then I can watch closer." She found tapping the knobs rather than trying to turn them seemed to work better.

"That's it!" Daniel cried. "Stop there!" Sam looked up to see herself, bespectacled, long hair, and dressed in a lab coat. The woman on the other side was beaming, waving enthusiastically at Daniel. Then she stepped back so he could see she was still within the SGA, gesturing around the room so he could see it was undamaged. He bobbed his head, grinning and giving her a thumbs up.

"I wish I could talk to her," Daniel sighed and waved one last time as Sam tried the dials again. "At least I know they made it." Reaching over, she squeezed his hand reassuringly. They were silent as she scrolled through countless reality streams.

Every universe she tried, she seemed to see versions of herself, or the SGC, SGA, or area 51. The mirror she knew of from her reality had been destroyed, so if there was another in her universe, it would be on some other planet, and Sam was starting to lose hope. Maybe she _was_ stranded here, in this reality. Or her option would be having to choose another one where she didn't seem to exist. She couldn't face everyone had sacrificed so much, just to have her end up in another reality, still not her own.

Sam saw the looks SG-1 were exchanging among themselves, questioning how long they were going to wait while she kept trying to find her needle in a haystack. It had been hours, but she couldn't give up now. She was close, she could feel it.

"I want you to go back," she told them. "I know about the radiation here and it's not safe. Besides, the longer you're gone, the harder it's going to be justifying your actions. I'm sure Kinsey's already got plans to use this incident to shut down the SGC."

"We're not leaving," Kawalsky stated, taking a step closer. "You think I could live with myself if I just left my best friend's girl?" Sam smiled at his tenacity. His loyalty seemed to be a staple in every universe.

"You're always there for me, Charlie," she assured him. Just then the scene on the mirror changed to an empty room. There was something familiar about it. The decor was definitely Goa'uld, but it was more than that. She'd been there. "I know this place," she whispered, stepping closer to examine what she could see within the mirror's frame.

There was nothing definitive she could say she recognized. It was more a feeling. Everyone stepped closer as well, trying to see if they noticed something familiar.

"I don't think we've been there," Janet said, looking up at Daniel.

"No, I don't think so. Although, there's something about that writing on the walls. . . ."

"It's Goa'uld," Sam confirmed.

"That was the enemy you told us about, right?" Ferretti asked.

"Yeah, so it's got to be close, if it isn't the right one," Sam said.

Daniel pushed his glasses further up his nose, scrutinizing what he could see on the gold embossed walls. "I've seen this before. . . . It's not Egyptian, exactly. . . ."

"It's earlier," she told him. "In my world you figured out how to read it." She didn't bother to mention he was considered a lunatic for his theories.

"I did? Wow. . . ." Sam looked over at Daniel. It was clear he was mesmerized by the writing and she was fairly certain when he returned to Earth, he was going to expand on his archaeological hobby.

Daniel broke his attention away long enough to look at her. "Well?"

Sam's gaze touched on all of them, settling last on Daniel. She took a deep breath. "I think this is it. I'm going to try." Everyone nodded at her, and Janet stepped forward, giving her a hug.

"It would have been great to get to know you better," she said, the expression on her face emotional. Sam squeezed her back, nodding, not trusting herself to speak.

"Lou," she said, sticking her hand out, surprised to find herself on the receiving end of a warm hug.

"Take care of yourself," he admonished.

"Charlie," she said, and didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him. Stepping back, she looked into his eyes. "Watch out for them for me, okay?"

"You have to ask?" he grinned. "Sorry I'm not around on your side to keep my eye on you," he winked.

Sam bit her lip to keep from crying as she turned to face Daniel. "I can't believe you did this for me," she said. "Risked everything. I'm not going to forget this—or any of you-you know."

Daniel swallowed. "I know."

"Tell my. . .General Carter I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say good-bye to him and I didn't mean to . . .well, mess up his program the way I did."

"I think helping to save the planet might carry some weight with him," he smiled.

Sam embraced him then suddenly stepped back. "Oh! Tell Jack I left a file for him and Charlie on my laptop. I think he'll figure out which one it is." Daniel took another step back and nodded.

"Thank you," she said, and touched the surprisingly warm surface of the mirror.


	32. Epilogue

Disclaimer in chapter 1

_Epilogue_

Jack stepped into the kitchen to refill his coffee mug, and caught sight of the paint cans still sitting on the counter. He knew he should do something with them, either toss them out, donate them,_ something_ instead of them being the glaring reminder of Sam's absence.

It was three months today. _Three months, six hours and some odd minutes._ Not that he was counting. He sighed, and over-filled his mug, letting loose a string of profanity the accident didn't warrant.

He'd tried to get his life back on track, but it was hard when he knew what was out there. What was _really_ out there. What a thin veneer of normalcy coated Earth's existence. He wondered how Kawalsky and the rest of them did it. How did you go off to work in the morning not knowing if you'd be on another planet by lunchtime. Or if there would be an Earth to come home to.

What about him? How could he find meaning in teaching disinterested high school students when perhaps the Replicators had been the tip of the iceberg? _Kind of hard to keep 'em down on the farm once they've seen Par-ee._ It's not like he wished he'd joined them, although, Jackson had asked. Apparently, the program was still in operation. Vice-President Kinsey was too busy defending himself against allegations of campaign fraud to bother cleaning house at the SGC.

There was the irony. If Sam had waited a month, she wouldn't have felt her only recourse had been to return to her universe. And he wouldn't feel the stabbing in his chest each of those 2,166 hours she'd been gone. His daily mantra was she'd made it back. That she was happy, reunited with her friends and family. And somehow O'Neill was watching out for her.

Retaking his place on the sofa, Jack picked up the paper, not really reading beyond the headlines. It used to be his favorite mode of weekend relaxation-sitting in the sun on a winter's day with a cup of coffee, newspapers spread around him. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Sam sitting on the other end, one foot on the coffee table, the other absently caressing his calf with her toes, engrossed in her own reading.

God, he missed her.

Charlie came stumbling down the stairs, yawning, rubbing his eyes, barely mumbling a greeting. Jack looked up to see his barefoot son, dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms. It was the middle of February, for crying out loud! How could the kid not be freezing without a shirt? He was about to say something when it struck Jack how grown up his son seemed. Especially when he returned from the kitchen with his own cup of coffee. _When the hell had he started drinking coffee?_ Jack wondered.

He was grouchy and was about to light into Charlie when he stopped himself. What was he doing? Gonna bitch his kid out because he wasn't properly dressed and indulging in what he considered an adult beverage? Just because today was another milestone along the "Sam's gone" continuum?

Their life was falling apart. Their relationship, everything. Charlie's grades had taken a nosedive, Jack's student's scores had dropped dramatically and he found himself on the receiving end of several academic reprimands. Add to that Charlie breaking up with Allison, and their existence was teetering. Something had to give.

Jack tried to forget the words Jackson had told him upon his return without Sam. How she'd left both he and Charlie something on her laptop. How had she known? Had she been planning on leaving all along? Even before she was taken? Too angry and hurt, Jack couldn't bring himself to open her computer, even as it taunted him daily. Every day he would look at the silver case and think about what she possibly could have left for him and his son. How he wished he had looked the first time he'd come across the laptop.

Maybe today was the day. Maybe there was something there that would help ease their suffering. Sam must have thought so if she instructed Daniel to make sure he knew. He just didn't know if he could take reading her words, imagining her sitting on the sofa typing furiously as she always did.

"Charlie," Jack said, clearing his throat. "There's something we need to do," he said softly.

"What's that?" he asked, not bothering to look up from the comics.

"Look at me."

Charlie sighed, raising the paper even higher to block out his father.

Jack was on his feet in a flash, ripping the paper in half. "I said look at me, damnit!"

Jack could see he'd scared his son. In the past weeks he'd been passive. Too passive, allowing Charlie to run wild as he'd curled in on himself. Jack had sank inward while Charlie had struck out. Getting kicked off the basketball team for drinking. The straight "A" student now in detention.

"Do you know what day it is?" Jack asked.

"Uh, Saturday?"

"Three months. Today it's three months." Jack saw Charlie didn't need clarification.

"Yeah, so? She left _US_, Dad. Just took off without a word. She didn't even take her stuff." Charlie bent over to pick up the pieces of his newspaper, but Jack stepped on them, preventing Charlie from gathering them.

"That's not what happened."

"Oh, really? Then why's all her stuff still here? Nothing moved like it was a shrine or something?" Jack felt his throat constrict. It _was_ like a shrine, he realized. As if to move any of her things would be the final insult. The final acknowledgment she wasn't coming back. Ever.

"I. . . ."

"Look, I get that you loved her, but she obviously didn't care much about us or she wouldn't have left the way she did." Jack closed his eyes, inwardly cursing the non-disclosure agreement he'd signed. Not that Charlie would believe him anyway. Who would believe such a tale? He'd lived it and he wasn't sure he bought it.

"It was complicated," was all Jack said.

"I'll bet." Charlie stood and Jack grabbed his arm.

"I'm not through talking to you."

Charlie shook off his father's hand. "Maybe I'm done talking to you." Before Jack was even aware, his hand struck Charlie across the mouth.

"Oh, God, Charlie! I didn't mean. . . .!" He tried to pull Charlie into a hug but was pushed away before Jack even got close.

"Yeah, right," Charlie said, rubbing his jaw. He started to back away, but Jack stepped closer.

"This is what I'm talking about! Charlie, we can't keep doing this!"

"I'm not the one who slugged you!"

Jack moved out of his son's personal space. "I'm sorry," he apologized again, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's come over me." He sat back down on the sofa, staring out the front window, letting he sun blind him. There was a long silence then Jack felt the couch cushions next to him compact.

"It's okay, Dad."

"No, it's not okay. I hit you!" Again the silence stretched between them. At length, Jack spoke. "Sam left us something."

"Left us something? But how. . ."

"Kawalsky's friend told me about it, but I haven't been able to face looking at it. I think maybe it's time. Maybe it'll explain what happened," he shrugged. "I don't know."

"Uncle Charlie's friend? But how would he know what happened to Sam?"

"It's a long story, but after we see what she left, if I still need to explain it, I'll try."

Charlie wrapped the afghan from the back of the couch around his shoulders. "So where is it?"

"On her laptop. Sit tight, I'll go get it." Jack bounded up the stairs two at a time almost as if he was afraid Charlie would bolt in his absence. When he returned, Jack set the computer on the coffee table, lifting the screen.

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Charlie asked.

"It's supposed to be two files. One for each of us." The two looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

"You go first."

"You're the grown-up, Dad. Most days," he added. At least Charlie was still able to joke with him.

Jack was nervous. What if this made things worse? What if she tried to explain why "they" just didn't work? Reaching over, he clicked on his name. Instead of a document as he'd expected, Jack watched as a video clip loaded up. The knots in his stomach tightened further. He wasn't sure he could face seeing her on the screen.

Jack stood, suddenly feeling nauseous. "I don't think I can do this," he said. "Not right now."

Charlie grabbed his arm. "It's gonna be tough, but let's try, Okay?" It took a moment before Jack gave him a slight nod and rejoined him on the sofa. It started out with the camera shaking slightly. The clip had been taken with the laptop's built-in camera, and Sam must have been adjusting the lid to get a clear shot.

The slightly distorted view of Sam came on the screen and Jack's throat constricted so tight, he felt as if someone was choking him. She smiled briefly and he could see she was nervous. Her hands were off-screen, but it was obvious she was wiping them along her thighs.

"Um, hi Jack," she spoke and sat up straighter. Jack chanced a glance at Charlie who was staring at him, just as taken aback as he himself felt. Both men turned their attention back to the screen as Sam continued.

"I suppose if you're watching this, it means I've told you to. I always feel silly when I do one of these," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "By 'one of these' I mean, marking a milestone." Sam took a breath and stared into the camera and Jack felt almost as if he could respond to her and she'd answer. "It's a habit I started when I joined the Air Force," she explained. "My mother died in a car accident when I was fourteen and I always regretted not knowing more about her. What she was like at that stage of her life, what she was thinking about."

"We never know what life is going to throw at us, or take away. So I've made it a point to chronicle certain events, because you never know how circumstances are going to change. I know how lost I felt when my mother was suddenly taken from me, and I didn't want anyone I cared about to have to face that kind of pain should I be the one to die. I guess on some level it's a bit narcissistic and morbid," she chuckled.

Sam paused, and looked away from the camera. It was a moment before she looked up and spoke again. "Today my life has changed in the most wonderful way imaginable. I've just moved in with you and Charlie. I know it's going to be a challenge for all of us, but I can't tell you how excited I am to give it a shot. Over the past few weeks I've gotten to know a side of you I never thought to see, and it just reaffirms my belief you're the kind of person I'd like to be when I grow up. That is if you ever _do_ grow up," she smiled.

"Your kindness, generous spirit and determined nature give me the strength to face the challenges this life has thrown at me, and I hope I do the same for you. If for some reason our situation changes and I have to go, I want you to know how much I love you, and always will." At that point Charlie reached over and hit pause. Jack could feel the tears welling in his eyes and was actually grateful his son interrupted the playback.

"What is she talking about, Dad? It's like she _knew_ this was going to happen. Like she'd been planning it all along! I can't watch any more of this!" Charlie started to stand but Jack stopped him.

"Please, don't go," he whispered. "She has one for you too."

"I know!" he practically wailed. "What good is it going to do to listen to her lies? If she loved us she wouldn't have left!"

"Charlie, I can't tell you the reasons why she left," Jack admitted. "I only know it wasn't entirely her choice."

Charlie stood and paced before the coffee table. "You said you didn't know why she left! Now you do?"

Running a hand over his stubbled jaw, Jack tried to think of another way of explaining it. "The project she was working on put her at risk. She had to go for her own protection. And to protect us, or so she thought."

"What, was she like a spy or something? Come on, Dad, that only happens in the movies!"

"You know she was in the Air Force," Jack reminded him.

"Yeah, and Uncle Charlie's in the Army. He's still around!"

Jack lost his patience."You think this isn't killing me? Every waking moment I feel her loss. She might as well be dead! You think you're the only one who's lost something? Well you're wrong!"

Jack stormed out of the house, unable to face his son or more of Sam's video. He knew she meant it to be a comfort, but it was anything but. Watching her on the small computer screen brought back his feelings with such startling clarity he couldn't breathe. It was below zero out but he didn't feel the cold, standing in the snow in just his slippers and a thin flannel robe.

Grabbing the ax that rested against the wood pile, Jack attacked a stump with all the pent up fury he had. He didn't know when he started crying in earnest. He hadn't even realized he had until he felt a breeze blow across the moisture on his cheeks. No matter how many whacks he took at the wood, the ache in his chest wouldn't go away. He only wished it wasn't so goddamned familiar. First Sara, now Sam. He was sure he must have been a total bastard in a former life to deserve such karma.

Jack let the ax drop from his hand as he leaned up against the garage door, wiping the tears still coursing down his face. The overt display of emotionalism was embarrassing him, and he was just thankful Charlie was still in the house and wasn't a witness to his breakdown.

Only Charlie wasn't in the house. When Jack turned around, his son was behind him, wrapped in the afghan, shivering. Their gazes locked, and Jack could see Charlie too had been crying.

"Dad. . . ." he choked, then moved tentatively forward to embrace his father. At first Jack remained where he was, making Charlie come to him, but when he was within a step of him, Jack reached out and pulled him close.

"I'm really sorry, Dad. I've been so selfish, just thinking about what _I'd_ lost. Not thinking about what it's been like for you."

Jack squeezed him tighter, nodding silently. They stood there for long minutes until Jack felt Charlie shiver. "We should head in," he said quietly, wondering what the neighbors must be thinking, then not giving a rat's ass. Hopefully he and Charlie now had a place to start, and could take a healing step forward, together.

XXXXXX

It was later that same day Jack found himself back in his kitchen, but the sight before him took him completely by surprise. Charlie never engaged in any chore without excessive prodding, yet here he was, perched on a step ladder dressed in old clothes. He dipped a roller into the paint tray just as Jack stepped into the room.

"Charlie?" he questioned.

Charlie turned around at the sound of his voice, suddenly grinning. "So! What do you think?"

"I think it looks like you're painting," Jack said, stating the obvious. "Why?"

Suddenly Charlie's smile dropped. "You don't mind, do you?"

Jack thought about it a minute. "No, I don't think I do."

Charlie's grin was back and he began rolling a wall. "I got to thinking after. . .after this morning. . .about how long these paint cans have been sitting here. Sam was really excited to make this room yellow."

Jack swallowed. "That she was."

Shrugging, Charlie added, "So I guess I thought we should do it. Kind of as a way to remember her."

_As if I'll ever forget_, Jack thought. But Charlie was right. The color was bright, cheery and reminded him of all the good things about Sam. How she'd lit up their lives, even if it was only for a short time.

Jack crossed into the room, surveying the job his son had done so far. It seemed rather haphazard, but, he decided, it would come together in the end. _Just like them, given enough time. _

There were an assortment of brushes laid out on the newspaper-lined counter. Jack picked one up, running his fingers over the bristles before dipping it into the sunny colored paint. He watched the latex drip back into the can, then, took a breath, stroking the brush on the face of a cabinet. _Be happy, Sam._

The End

**A/N—**There's a sequel entitled "The Other Side of Reality" which I'll begin posting in a few days. I think we all could use a breather :-)! Thanks so much to everyone who read and those who reviewed. I really appreciate the time you devoted to my story.

Noda


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